


Sweet Gestures

by rose_malmaison



Category: NCIS
Genre: Christmas, Existing Relationship, First Christmas, Gibbs gets hurt slightly, Gift Giving, Grumpy Gibbs, Holidays, M/M, Slash, Sledding, Snow, Team, Tony takes care of Gibbs, Winter fun, christmas gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 15:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8719426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rose_malmaison/pseuds/rose_malmaison
Summary: Giving gifts takes on a new meaning for the people at NCIS during the holiday season. Tony and Gibbs express their love through the gifts they give each other. It's snowing in DC so there's wintertime fun in the 12 days before Christmas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: this was written in 2010 and I guess I forgot to post it here at AO3. I’m not looking it over or editing it, for fear I’d find it needs an entire re-write!  
> Genre: Slash, Christmas story  
> Pairing: DiNozzo/Gibbs, existing relationship  
> Spoilers: none

 

 **Sweet Gestures** by rose malmaison

 _Merry Christmas, Baby._  
_Babe you sure did treat me nice._  
_Yeah! Merry, merry, merry Christmas, Baby._  
_Babe you sure did treat me nice._  
_Gave me a diamond ring for Christmas <_br /> _And now I’m living in paradise._

_Songwriters: Lou Baxter, Johnny Moore_

 

Chapter 1

 

It was late and everyone except Gibbs was present in the bullpen, waiting for the boss to appear so they could finally go home. What with one case coming in on top of another there had been no relief or downtime for over a month and the entire team was running on empty. Now that it was nearing the end of December they were all looking forward to a week off starting on Christmas Eve.

 

"Remember," Abby warned the team with a dangerous glint in her eye. "We agreed."

 

Tony, not wanting to encounter the wrath of Abby, nodded dutifully. "Count me in."

 

She looked hard at McGee, Jimmy and Ducky to make sure they understood the terms she'd outlined.

 

McGee pulled a face and protested, "But I've already bookmarked the gifts I want to buy everyone online. It's so much easier that way. And fast, too."

 

Ducky looked askance at Tim. "My dear young man, to say I am appalled is an understatement. Christmas should not be so remote. It is the gesture that counts, after all."

 

"Just because I'm clicking to buy instead of spending endless hours shopping in overcrowded department stores doesn't mean my choices aren't from the heart," Tim said, a little affronted that Ducky would feel he was cavalier about gift giving.

 

"Oh, Timmy, you're always thoughtful," Abby agreed, standing behind him and hugging him around his neck. "But it will be so much more personal if we do it this way."

 

"Yeah, McEbenezer," Tony said with a grin. "Next thing you'll be baking us all virtual Christmas cookies."

 

Ducky eyed the young people gathered around. "Many people mistakenly believe that the twelve days precede Christmas Day instead as a countdown. In actuality the twelve days of Christmas start on Christmas Day and end on the morning of the Epiphany, on January 6th. In Scotland, early in the 19th century, the lyrics were, 'The king sent his lady on the first Yule day, A popingo-aye; Wha learns my carol and carries it away?' The other gifts included plovers, goldspinks, a bull that was brown, three ducks a-merry laying, and even an Arabian baboon. Why--."

 

"Well, I'm not waiting. We're going to start giving our gifts any time now up to Christmas Day, Ducky," Abby interrupted. "It's such an exciting time of year! I love it - making people happy, sharing memories of Christmases gone by, snowball fights!" She released Tim from the hold she had around his neck and stood on her toes. She rotated 360 degrees, seeking Gibbs' whereabouts over the bullpen's divider walls. "Where's the Bossman? I don't want him to miss this meeting. Not that he's big on buying gifts for everyone, or anyone, as we all know. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say he hasn't actually bought anyone anything, not even for the secret Santa, but we can't leave him out this year. He has to join in."

 

"I'm just glad we at NCIS aren't doing secret Santa any more," Jimmy said. "It's so hard to find the right gift for someone you hardly know. Not that I can claim to know Jerry down in accounting, but that light-up Star Trek calculator I got him last year was a success only by chance. Abby's idea makes a whole lot more sense."

 

"And we have such a diverse group of people of so many faiths here at NCIS that it would be impossible to correctly celebrate all of their holidays," Ziva pointed out.

 

Tony closed down his computer and leaned back in his chair. "I agree with Palmer. No way can I cap what I now think of as my 'Delores breakthrough moment.'" He smiled at the memory.

 

Gibbs strode into the bullpen, coffee in hand. "Not buying any more Cherry Pie dolls, DiNozzo?"

 

Sitting up at attention, Tony replied quickly, "No, Boss. No more dolls. The decree from the top is now no gift giving between colleagues for Christmas, Hanukkuh, Kwanzaa, National Pawnbroker's Day, or Dewey Decimal System Day. Though you might want to keep the 21st open for Crossword Puzzle Day, Boss."

 

Ziva closed down her computer with a flourish and smiled. "Well I, for one, I will still be celebrating International Human Solidarity Day on the 20th, with a simple candle-lighting."

 

"And I'm not giving up National Chocolate-covered Anything Day," Abby said with a wide smile. "My personal favorite."

 

Tim finished his work and powered down, casting a sideways smirk at Tony. "You still celebrating Underdog Day, Tony?"

 

"Better than your personal favorite, McKitty: Cat-herding Day on the 15th," Tony snapped back with a grin.

 

"If you don't all go home soon it'll be Festivus, and we'll have to perform Feats of Strength," Gibbs said as he clipped his holster to his belt. "DiNozzo, with me."

 

Tony scrambled to his feet, a look of astonishment on his face. "Boss, you've been holding out on us. Since when do you watch Seinfeld?"

 

Gibbs' reply was a glare. "Home, and that means everyone."

 

*

 

As the team excited the elevator and made their way to their respective cars, Abby reminded them once more, calling out, "Remember, we all agreed!"

 

*

 

Finally home, Gibbs shut the door behind him and locked it then turned to find Tony standing only a couple of feet away. Neither man said anything for a minute and then Gibbs asked wearily, "Food or shower?"

 

Instead of replying Tony stepped forward and gathered him into his arms, resting his head on Gibbs' shoulder. He let out a big sigh.

 

Gibbs gave a small laugh and patted Tony on the back. "Only two more weeks."

 

"Won't make it," came the muffled reply.

 

"C'mon, you need food."

 

"I need a vacation."

 

"Sun. Sand. Palm trees. Hold onto that picture," Gibbs suggested, giving Tony a kiss on his temple.

 

"I can just see it now," Tony said. "You lying next to me on the beach. Hot sun, surf, bikinis, cocktails at sunset." He raised his head and smiled at Gibbs. "Yeah, I can hold onto that picture. How'd you get to be so smart?"

 

Gibbs sent Tony a menacing look. "Bikinis? What bikinis?"

 

"Hey, I think I have that bikini somewhere around here that I bought Kate back in Puerto Rico...I figure you'd look hot in it but if you prefer we can just go for the Speedo instead. Wrrrrow!"

 

"Huh. Apparently brains come with age. You'll get there some day, Tony."

 

"How can I get there, if you keep fucking my brains out?"

 

Gibbs laughed and kissed Tony affectionately and when the younger man slanted his head, deepening the kiss, Gibbs pulled him close and reciprocated. Every day he thanked the powers above that he'd come to his senses and finally accepted Tony's love as being the right thing for both of them. It would be a year on Christmas Eve, and in that time together they'd managed to overcome some significant hurdles.

 

They had managed to find just the right balance so they could work together without their personal life intruding too much. They'd figured out how to date in a way they were both comfortable with, because Tony liked to go to concerts, and to eat out and shop with Gibbs by his side. Gibbs liked to watch Tony in action at any time, whether he was buying clothes or window-shopping, but he drew the line at carrying his shopping bags. Both men had found ways to accommodate, and learned to give each other plenty of space when needed. Working together for nearly a decade had its advantages.

 

They'd squabbled far less than Gibbs had expected, although only one month into their relationship they had one hell of a fight resulting in sharp words and slammed doors. Not that Gibbs had actually said much of anything aloud. They suffered for a week without talking to each other, except for the bare minimum of communication required at work. Tony had retreated to his apartment, and Gibbs to his house only a few miles away. Due to the seemingly insurmountable rift, the distance felt a lot greater than it was. It was only with perseverance and a whole lot of compromise, from both of them, that they were able to make up. The entire experience had been so unsettling that Gibbs swore it would never be repeated if he had anything to say about it.

 

They'd had sex in positions and places Gibbs had never imagined would be possible, but then Tony was pretty adventurous. He found he even liked it that sometimes Tony took the lead. It was Tony who had brought up the question of what to actually call their relationship. Gibbs couldn’t care less what it was called - all he knew was that he was so deeply involved with the younger man that he couldn't bear to think what life would be like without him. They'd agreed, after way too much discussion as far as Gibbs was concerned, to call their union a partnership. The word seemed somehow inadequate.

 

Within two months of their first kiss, Tony was spending every weekend and most weeknights at Gibbs' place. By three months a huge flat-screen tv had taken up permanent residence in the living room, and at four months they bought a new mattress together. And then, five months into their partnership, after Gibbs dropped subtle hints and then a more direct invitation, Tony moved into Gibbs' home, and into his heart permanently.

 

* end chapter 1*

 


	2. Chapter 2

After a dinner of leftovers Gibbs left Tony to watch TV while he spent some alone time in the basement with the boat that Tony jokingly called 'the fifth Mrs. Gibbs.' By the time he'd worked on sanding the hull to a point he felt like stopping, Gibbs was ready for bed. Up in the kitchen he quickly sorted a stack of mail, most of which was catalogs addressed to Tony, set the coffeemaker timer for 0600, and dumped a pile of clothing on the washing machine in the laundry room. When he went into the living room with the intention of telling Tony he was hitting the sack, Gibbs was surprised to see the TV and the lights were off and Tony was waiting to accompany him upstairs.

 

"Early tonight?" Gibbs slipped his arm around the younger man and they climbed the stairs together. Sometimes Tony stayed up watching movies until 0200; it was no wonder he caught catnaps whenever he could during the day.

 

"Oh yeah," was all Tony said but Gibbs was sure he was up to something. When he raised an eyebrow and expected Tony to elaborate all he got was a bland smile. Oh yeah, he was definitely planning something.

 

Gibbs was the first one in bed. He worked on a crossword puzzle while waiting for Tony to come out of the bathroom, idly wondering how they were going to adhere to Abby's new rules regarding gift-giving this Christmas. He hadn't had any inclination to get into the Christmas spirit for some time - for years actually. Even so, last year when his father had insisted on erecting a Christmas tree trimmed with all the old Gibbs family decorations in his living room, he had felt the tug of nostalgia. Perhaps, like a lot of his feelings, it had just been lying dormant.

 

Just the day before Tony had arrived home with a seven-foot fir tree that he'd bought from the farmers' market he passed on the way home. Tony had been so thrilled with his purchase, smiling as happily as a kid, and going on about how beautiful it was going to look once they'd decorated their first Christmas tree.

 

*

 

Tony caught at the expression on Gibbs' face and looked at him with concern. "What's the matter, Jethro? The ceiling's high enough, and I bought a stand, too. The guy at the market cut the bottom off for me so it's fresh. Did I get the wrong kind?"

 

"No, it was a good choice, Tony. I guess I'm not in the mood." Was he ever? Gibbs felt contrite for being the one to douse Tony's seasonal joy, but he was having a hard time with the whole holiday thing. He'd managed to avoid participating in anything celebratory for years, thought he'd given in a little by attending Ducky's Christmas dinner, or calling his Dad to talk with him. Hell, he'd even watched _It's a Wonderful Life_ at Tony's insistence, along with the team in MTAC. He felt like an outsider though. Now he knew he had to make an effort for Tony's sake even if it wasn't easy.

 

"But it's Christmas! This is our first one together. Well, our first since we've been partners." He offered a smile of encouragement.

 

Even if he wanted to explain, Gibbs wasn't sure he could. "Shannon always trimmed the tree."

 

Tony's smile slowly disappeared and was replaced by a look of understanding that barely covered his disappointment. "Look, the tree was a bad idea. I should have talked to you about it first. I'll just put it out back for now." Tony started to drag the tree towards the kitchen door but Gibbs stopped him.

 

Gibbs felt mixed emotions about the tree and he regretted spoiling Tony's enjoyment. Tony's childhood Christmases had been anything but wonderful, and his Christmases as an adult had been lonely affairs or spent in the company of his co-workers. Never with a loving family. This was his first time experiencing the holiday at home with someone he loved, and who loved him back. Jethro reached out and stopped Tony from removing the fir tree. "No, wait. Wait, Tony."

 

"No, no. It's all right."

 

"Damn it, it isn't all right, Tony." Gibbs ran his hand through his hair. "Just…just bring it in and put it in the living room."

 

Tony still hesitated. "You sure?"

 

"Yeah."

 

Once it was fixed upright in the stand and water added to keep it fresh, Tony asked, "Do you have any decorations? I can buy some…"

 

"There are some boxes in the attic," Gibbs said without thinking. Many of the ornaments stored away had been handmade by his wife and daughter. He looked at the tree standing in the corner of the living room, to one side of the fireplace. It was tall and dark and fragrant in its unadorned state, a stark reminder that some memories could still hurt after twenty years.

 

Tony's hand was on his arm and Gibbs turned to him. Tony said cautiously, "We'll buy new decorations and start afresh if you like."

 

"Okay," Gibbs replied. He couldn’t say anything more but Tony understood.

 

Tony hugged him for a moment then stood by his side to look at the tree with pride. "I never bought a Christmas tree before. My second stepmother, Angeline, was with us for only one Christmas but she pulled out all the stops. Everything was color-coordinated in white and red. The huge fake tree was sparkly white and covered in shiny red ornaments." Tony put a finger to his chin and looked thoughtful. "You know, I think she made that tree in her own image. Then there was Marianne, who was the only age-appropriate woman my father ever married. She was Long Island's answer to Martha Stewart so the whole house was greenery and fruit everywhere, and a Christmas tree in every room, each one decorated in a different holiday theme. I have to say she worked very hard to make the mansion look beautiful. Hired a team of seasonal decorators, too, so she didn't break any nails. Then when it was all done she and my father flew to the Bahamas for the holidays and left me there alone with strict instructions not to touch anything. I took them at their word and didn't even open any of the presents under the tree, though now I suspect they were just empty boxes wrapped in shiny paper and bows." He smiled at Gibbs and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. "So, you see, I don't give a damn if we decorate this tree or not. It's beautiful just as it is."

 

*

 

Tony emerged from the bathroom wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He surprised Gibbs by dropping a big tube of some sort of cream on the bed alongside a towel. "Show me your feet, Jethro," he ordered.

 

Gibbs looked over his reading glasses at Tony, loving the way his hair stood up after being towel dried. No wonder the man spent so much time on his hair and used so much gel, hydrating spray and other products on it. Tony's hair was as unruly as he was and he needed help to keep it in place. Gibbs complied without asking any questions, throwing the bedding back to expose his legs and feet.

 

Tony knelt on the bed at Gibbs' feet and ran his hands down his pajama-clad legs. "Plaid flannel jammies. Mmm. Nice and cozy."

 

"Gonna be cold tonight. Gonna snow tomorrow," Gibbs said. He removed his glasses and put the crossword puzzle aside, curious as to what Tony had in store for him tonight. He was wearing a long-sleeve t-shirt as well as the flannel pajama bottoms for warmth. From the look in Tony's eyes he had a suspicion it wouldn’t be long before Tony was the only thing keeping him warm.

 

Tony asked, "Your knees bothering you?" The grunt of a reply was Gibbs for 'yes but I'm not going to admit it.' Tony was well versed in Gibbs-speak. With a slight shake of his head Tony uncapped the tube and squirted some cream onto one palm. He rubbed his hands together and wiggled his eyebrows. "This'll warm you up a bit."

 

His heart beating faster, Gibbs wondered what was in store for him at Tony's hands. "Smells nice. Lemony."

 

Tony leaned forward, keeping his lotion-coated hands out of the way, and playfully sniffed Gibbs' throat. "You smell good, too," he said with a soft smile, then settled back at his lover's feet. "I haven't seen any massage cream in coffee scent yet, but I'll keep looking." He began by warming up Gibbs' feet using long, firm strokes from his ankles to his toes and back. He took his time and did a thorough job massaging the entire foot. Gibbs relaxed, his head comfortable on the pillow, occasionally releasing a sigh. By the time Tony applied pressure with his thumbs along one side of Gibb's foot, and then paid equal attention to the other, the sighs had become soft moans.

 

"Oh that feels good. So good," Gibbs murmured.

 

"Thank my Massage II instructor, who stressed how important it is to take care of your feet," Tony said. He glanced up, amused to see Gibbs' eyes were closed and his lips were slightly parted.

 

"Funny, that's exactly what my boot camp instructor said," Gibbs mumbled.

 

"We did agree to the new team rules for gift giving, Jethro. Pair up and do something nice for your partner for the twelve days of Christmas. No buying of gifts someone doesn't need. Little or no cost and a lot of pleasure." Abby and Tim had paired up, and Ducky with Palmer. Ziva, being the odd one out, had arranged to exchange gifts with Damon. Tony had, of course, partnered up with Gibbs.

 

Tony continued kneading the soles of Gibbs' feet. He alternated applying pressure on certain points with rubbing and massaging until Gibbs' groans grew louder. Tony picked up one of his lover's feet, which he thought were as handsome as the rest of the man, and began to suckle on his toes.

 

Gibbs writhed and gasped. His head came up off the pillow, his eyes dark and needy. "God, Tony…I'm hard and you've only touched my feet."

 

He stroked his cock through his pajamas until Tony stopped sucking on his toes and said firmly, "Not yet, Jethro. Leave your hands by your side."

 

Gibbs reluctantly kept his hands out of action by gripping the bedding but his hips jerked up a little, pleading to be touched somewhere other than his feet.

 

"Shhh, relax. I'm not done." Tony licked up Gibb's instep and gave it a gentle nip, then stroked and massaged Gibbs' ankles and then up to his muscular calves inside the legs of the pajama pants.

 

Gibbs' hands were at the waist of his pajamas, hastily undoing the drawstrings but Tony stopped him from pulling them down. "No, not yet. So impatient," he scolded. Bracing himself with one hand on either side of Gibbs' thighs, Tony nuzzled his flannel-covered crotch with his nose. "Mmm, nice and warm," he murmured, appreciating the way Gibbs' cock grew in response to his touch. Tony mouthed the heavy cock through the soft fabric, gently and then a bit harder, then nuzzling once more to take in the heady scent that was all Jethro. He found the fly and used his tongue to work his way inside, licking and prodding at the hot silken flesh he discovered there until Jethro was moaning, hips rising, his hands reaching out to take hold of Tony's hair.

 

Tony sat back and grasped the waistband of the pajamas. He pulled them down in one swift motion to Gibbs' knees and then slower to his ankles, exposing his dark leaking cock. He looked up to meet Gibb's eyes and licked his lips. "Oh my, is this all for me?"

 

"Only for you," Gibbs said with a gasp when Tony took hold of the base of his cock with one hand.

 

"Merry Christmas, baby," Tony said with a seductive smile. He eased his mouth down the length of Jethro's cock. His lips tightened around its girth, tongue swirling across its underside, and then he pulled back and paid attention to the sensitive head. He sucked and licked greedily, the tip of his tongue deftly invading the slit. Tony lapped at the head and made hungry sounds in the back of his throat while Jethro raked his fingers across his scalp and drew his knees up and out. He was writhing and making small noises that soon became louder.

 

With one hand Tony fondled and tugged at Jethro's balls, making him groan and pant like he was running a race. Tony took all of Jethro's cock in his mouth and began to hum 'Merry Christmas, Baby' while he reached down to rub his thumb hard along Gibbs' instep. His action elicited a shudder and then Gibbs tensed and arched, taking hold of Tony's shoulders like they were a lifeline, and came with a loud groan into his mouth.

 

*

 

Afterwards, spent, Gibbs lay there unable to speak, legs spread, his plaid flannel pajamas kicked down to the bottom of the bed. His sated expression told Tony all he needed to know. Tony cleaned him off, gentle and loving with his every motion. Gibbs opened his eyes a crack and moaned, but then managed a smile.

 

Tony pulled Gibbs' pajamas back up with some difficulty as he wasn't getting any assistance, and then slid into bed, drawing the covers over their shoulders to ward off the cold night. He leaned over to turn off the light and then kissed Gibbs slowly and thoroughly. "There, just as we agreed," he said. "That was my gift to you on the first night of Christmas. Tomorrow it's your turn to give me a gift."

 

Gibbs rolled towards Tony and held him close. He mumbled, "I don't think I can make it through eleven more nights of this."

 

"Well I can, and I intend to bring you along for the ride, Marine."

 

***end chapter 2***

 


	3. Chapter 3

Just as the ZNN meteorologists had predicted, a heavy snow fell on DC that night.

 

*

 

They had managed to get both of their cars in the garage the night before, side by side, although it was a squeeze. Gibbs was out front shoveling the walkway and had cleared half the drive before Tony appeared, bundled up. Gibbs cast a critical eye over him and asked, "You taking that transfer to Alaska, DiNozzo?"

 

Tony glanced down over his winter gear: heavy wool socks with LL Bean boots, corduroy pants, a bulky hand-knit sweater over a turtleneck with a jacket on top. He also wore an Ohio State knit cap, fur-lined leather gloves, and a very long muffler that Abby had knit for him last year. It was black with white snowflakes. He'd wound it several times around his neck so it covered his face up to his eyes. "I don' like t' be col' Jethro," he said in a muffled voice from behind the wooly scarf.

 

Gibbs, who was wearing a leather jacket and no gloves or hat, was pink-cheeked from the cold. He strode up to Tony and glared at him for a minute, then pulled Tony's muffler down to expose his face. He moved his lips to within inches of Tony's mouth and frowned at him. "You shovel the rest of the driveway and I'll warm you up. Got a gift for you. Upstairs when you're done."

 

Tony's eyes widened and he grabbed the snow shovel out of Gibbs' hand. "You go warm up the bed and I'll be right there."

 

Stepping away, Gibbs warned, "Make sure you scrape it clean, Tony. And sand any icy spots. I have something to do out front first."

 

*

 

Fifteen minutes later Tony was in the mudroom adjacent to the kitchen, stripping off his outdoor clothes, dumping his snowy boots on the mat. He took the stairs two at a time and slid into the bedroom on stockinged feet. Gibbs was waiting for him, fully clothed, a steaming mug in each hand. "Cocoa," he offered.

 

"Thanks, I love cocoa!" Tony grinned and took one of the mugs. He drank greedily and then placed the half-empty mug to one side. He looked around the room to see if there was any hint as to what the gift might be. Nothing looked out of place except for the rumpled bed, which he'd forgotten to make.

 

Gibbs took his time sipping his cocoa, but after Tony started hopping from one foot to the other in anticipation he took pity on him and put his empty mug aside. He wrapped his arms around Tony and drew him near, then kissed him slowly and thoroughly, tongue sliding across his lips and darting into his mouth until he had him moaning for more. Jethro pulled back and grumbled, "Your nose is cold."

 

"And your hands are really cold," Tony complained in response. He took both of Gibbs' hands in his, puzzled. "Why're you so cold? Didn't anyone ever tell you that you should wear gloves? You got me a present?"

 

Gibbs held onto Tony's hands and pulled him towards the bedroom window. He released Tony in order to raise one of the double windows, letting in the crisp winter air. Ignoring Tony's cry, "Are you crazy? You're letting the cold in," Gibbs pointed down at the snowy front yard. "There," he said with a bright smile.

 

Tony reluctantly moved to the open window, his shoulders hunched up and arms crossed in protest of the cold air. He peered out with suspicion written all over his features then he exclaimed, "Snowmen! Who made those…?" With a look of wonder he turned to see an almost sheepish look on Jethro's face. "Did you…? Aw Jethro…" He leaned on the windowsill, forgetting his aversion to cold, and looked down at the snow-covered front yard. There, standing close together, were two hastily constructed snowmen, one wearing what Tony recognized as Jethro's fishing hat, a fishing pole held in his gloved hand. The other one wore an NCIS ball cap and a muffler. Both had eyes and mouths made of pebbles and bits of twig, and carrots for noses. The Jethro-snowman's gloved hand was holding Tony-snowman's twiggy hand in a strangely human gesture of friendship. Drawn in the snow in front of the snowmen was a big heart.

 

"Merry Christmas, baby," Gibbs said, echoing the lyrics of the song Tony had been humming the night before. He couldn’t help grinning broadly in response to Tony's delighted smile. As soon as Gibbs laughed aloud Tony turned and wrapped him in a bear hug, tucking his face into his neck. Jethro was touched that a simple act could warrant such a loving response. "Hey, they're only snowmen, Tony. They'll probably melt by tomorrow." He raised a hand to hold the back of Tony's head close, enjoying the feel of his hair between his fingers, the warm breath on his neck and the way his body leaned into him.

 

"It's just that…nobody ever gave me anything like that before," came the slightly muffled response. Tony suddenly pulled back with wide eyes, staying within Gibbs' arms. "Oh no…"

 

"What?"

 

"Shit, Jethro! You do realize you've outed those two snowmen to the whole neighborhood." He let out a laugh at the shocked look on Gibbs' face. "At least Tony the Snowman has a bigger carrot nose than his boyfriend has." He ground his hips against Jethro and raised his eyebrows. "You know what they say about the correlation between the size of a man's carrot and his penis."

 

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "How about you close that window and I'll show you just how big my carrot is."

 

Tony lost no time in breaking free, slamming the window shut and tackling Jethro so they fell onto the bed together. They kissed and when they broke apart to take a breath, Tony groused, "Your hands are still cold."

 

"Then you'd better work harder at warming me up," Gibbs challenged. "Hey, it's your job to make the bed every morning."

 

"What's the point when I knew we'd mess it up again? We _are_ going to mess it up, aren't we?"

 

"If you stop talking, we will."

 

In response Tony pulled Gibbs' shirt up and started sucking one of his nipples - hard. Gibbs bucked and gasped. Quickly they shed their clothes and collapsed in a tangle of limbs on the unmade bed.

 

Gibbs soon took the lead, murmuring, "Last night you took care of me. Now it's my turn to take care of you." He kissed Tony with passion, dominating their every move, his tongue battling with Tony's while his free hand ran down his naked thighs possessively. "On your back." He coerced the younger man to lift his knees and settled between his legs, feeling right at home there.

 

He liked the way Tony was panting and moaning, already so eager and open to him, hands grasping and fondling, whimpering for him to hurry up, to fill his need. Everything about Tony turned him on - the sounds he made, so needy and desperate, the way he looked, the utter beauty of the man, all long limbs and smooth skin, heavy-lidded eyes dark with desire, lips parted and tongue sneaking out, wet and shiny, so tempting.

 

And the way he smelled. Oh God, his smell, all soap and aftershave and sweat and sex. Yeah, that turned him on. A whiff of his pre-come was all it took to make him rock hard. And the way his chest dark hair circled his pink nipples, then trailed down his belly to his groin where his penis jutted out - thick and dark and aroused, suffused with blood, the fat head tipped with glistening droplets in anticipation - offering itself to him like a prize.

 

His taste, oh God, his taste. The way his skin varied, the wet mouth sweet, underarms salty, come bitter, the way Tony tasted like nobody else. All Tony. And the words that came out of that beautiful mouth. Sometimes he swore like a sailor, mouthing obscenities that served to turn Jethro on even more. Demanding attention, giving orders as if he was the one in control, saying fuck me hard, suck my dick, bite my ass, hold me tighter, just you never fucking let me go.

 

Tony's hands could be tender and soft in their caresses, or pinching and cruel and hard as only a man's hands can be, always without any shame. And when he came the way his body flushed and trembled and shuddered with orgasm and he cried out with shaky moans and arched and tensed and finally collapsed in his arms - that was Tony, his boy, his man, the only one Jethro wanted to fuck and to protect and to be forever united with.

 

And when he came in response to Tony's orgasm, it was always the same. He tried to hold out, to reach his peak after Tony came, to wait for him in some weird game of outdoing, outlasting him, even though it was intended to give, to just give Tony the best experience he could, to give him everything, to give way, give self…it was like he died. Sometimes he'd black out and awake later, damp and sweaty, still hot with his heart racing, and he'd see Tony's eyes, and my God the way he looked at him with such faith, such deep belief that he, that HE could protect him from everything out there that scared the shit out of the both of them.

 

Then Tony would turn to him and take him in his arms and act the part of the protector, whispering assurances and seeing deeper into his soul than anyone had ever seen, even if they'd bothered to look, and Tony would say he loved him and for once Jethro believed in God.

 

***end chapter 3***


	4. Chapter 4

The next day they were back at work and, as Gibbs had predicted, the snow began to melt. Morning sunshine did its job and by noon the DC streets were a mess of slush and dirty snow.

 

Tony had taken photos of the snowmen that Gibbs had made when they were still in their prime on the previous day. They'd melted down to unidentifiable lumps so before they left for the Navy Yard Tony took a moment to rescue the soggy hat, scarf and gloves, and the fishing rod, from the front yard.

 

He'd noticed that morning that Gibbs was moving slower than usual so he made an off-the-cuff remark about old men not bouncing back too fast. When Gibbs didn't crack a smile or sling a retort his way, Tony realized his lover's problem wasn't from overextending himself during sex. He surreptitiously watched the way Gibbs got to his feet - when exiting the car and later when rising from the chair at his desk- and decided it was Gibbs' knees that were giving him trouble.

 

Of course Gibbs caught Tony checking him out and made no effort to hide his annoyance. Later when they were in the bullpen Tony handed him a couple of pills from a bottle that said 'for arthritis pain' in such large lettering that not only Gibbs, but the entire team, could read it, Gibbs snapped, "You a geriatric specialist all of a sudden, DiNozzo?"

 

Tony was taken aback by the jeering tone but he recovered quickly. With a smile he replied, "No, I'm only a Gibbs specialist."

 

Gibbs took the pills and allowed a slight nod. He hated getting old, and his knees really hurt that morning. Every time it was cold and damp they literally creaked like a staircase in an old house, sometimes so loud he was afraid everyone else could hear it too. Signs of weakness were not limited to apologies. He was afraid of not being able to keep up, of not being there for his team, of letting them down, just as his own body was letting him down. He was afraid of pity and being forced out of his job, and that Tony would think of him as being old. And even if the offhanded remarks about old men, and needing glasses, and damned _arthritis pills_ , for God's sake, had some basis in truth, it didn't lessen his fear one bit.

 

*

 

They were called out on a case that afternoon when a body was discovered in the melting snow. It appeared that the victim had been murdered and then tossed down a steep hill by the side of the road. Tony and Gibbs took a sedan and Ziva and McGee drove the van. Ducky and Palmer, in the medical examiner's truck, were close behind.

 

The team carefully made their way down the mushy slope carrying their equipment. Tony complained about the cold, the damp air, his too-tight boots, and the latest film he'd seen that hadn't lived up to its reviews. He was clowning around with McGee and then both of them slipped, arms akimbo, grabbing at each other and righting themselves, laughing in relief.

 

Gibbs, who was in the lead and halfway down the hill, glanced back because, despite his foul mood, he needed to see Tony laughing. Like an addict, he thought, always wanting more than does you good. Gibbs wasn't paying enough attention to his footing and his knees were stiff, so it was he who slipped and fell. He tumbled and slid about twenty feet and came to a sudden, painful stop against a cement drainage culvert at the bottom of the slope.

 

"Shit!" Tony dropped his knapsack and the rest of the equipment he was carrying and half ran, half slid down to Gibbs' side. Ziva and McGee followed, but their questions and concerns, and Tony's helping hands, were angrily swept aside by their downed boss. Once his heart had stopped hammering Tony stood over Gibbs, who was lying in the wet snow, watching him for any sign that he needed medical attention. He had to bite his lips to prevent himself from saying anything.

 

_Are you sure you haven't broken anything? Is your hip all right 'cause it sure as hell looked like you came to a pretty abrupt stop there, Boss? You need x-rays? Right now I really want to take you in my arms, Jethro, and hug you hard because I was scared for a moment there and I almost had a heart attack…_

 

For a minute Gibbs didn't move and then, cautiously, he sat upright. He was embarrassed by his fall, but more so by the unwanted attention. He was soaked to the skin and already damned cold, but he was pretty sure he hadn't broken anything. Hurt, yes. Broken, no. "I'm fine," he snapped.

 

"Uh, I think that's my usual line, Boss," Tony said lightly, getting a glare for his trouble.

 

Still, Gibbs hadn't risen to his feet so Tony stood there on guard. Ziva and McGee watched their team leader warily then their eyes met over his head in a silent exchange. Before Gibbs could tell them to get on with their work they took it upon themselves to move along to the victim's body and they began to process the scene.

 

Ducky made his way down the slope to Gibbs' side, Palmer right behind him, wearing appropriate footwear for once. When Tony described the fall Gibbs had taken and expressed his concern, the ME gave him a sharp look that suggested Tony would be wise to leave the doctor to deal with Gibbs.

 

Tony reluctantly did as he was told and moved over to the crime scene to begin his work. He had a hard time concentrating on his job while keeping half an eye on Gibbs.

 

Ducky squatted down to talk to the fallen agent and after a short time helped him to his feet. It was then that Ducky signaled for Tony to come over. Gibbs stood there stiffly, soaked through from the wet snow, his mouth set. Tony interpreted it, from long experience, as an effort to hide considerable pain.

 

"Give Jethro a shoulder to lean on, will you, Anthony? Just up to the car, if you will. And turn the heat on high for him please."

 

Tony slipped an arm around Gibbs' waist and waited for some kind of signal to proceed. After a slight hesitation Gibbs slung his arm around Tony's shoulder and hung on for support. They slowly climbed back up the steep slope, with Tony watching Gibbs' face for signs of overt pain. He was definitely limping, favoring his left leg. Gibbs refused to meet his eyes, which was worrisome. Tony settled his boss in the passenger seat of the car, and when Gibbs winced, Tony finally spoke. "I'm gonna take you to the hospital, Jethro. You need to get that leg looked at--."

 

He wasn't allowed to finish his sentence. "No." Gibbs turned his head and, for the first time since he fell, looked Tony in the eye. His gaze was cold and unrelenting. "I don't need a hospital. I just need some heat on it and--."

 

It was Tony's turn to interrupt. "It's cold for bruises. You could have broken your hip, or pulled something, Jethro. You can't just--."

 

"I've already been through this with Ducky, so stop hovering, DiNozzo!"

 

Tony pushed even though he could see that Jethro was very close to losing his temper. Though why he would be so angry, just like a snapping dog, when everyone was trying to take care of him was a mystery. "Damn it, Jethro, you need--."

 

"Don't call me Jethro. In the field you call me Gibbs or Boss. Is that clear, DiNozzo?"

 

Despite knowing that the man was in pain and wasn't handling the whole situation very well, his words cut Tony to the core. He held Gibbs' eyes for a long beat, then he looked away and stepped back from the car. "Crystal, Agent Gibbs. Are you staying here at the scene or do you want someone to drive you back, sir?" They'd also brought the MCRT truck, so it was no problem if Gibbs wanted to leave immediately. Maybe Ducky could spare Palmer to drive Gibbs wherever he wanted to go.

 

"You take the lead on this one, DiNozzo," Gibbs said abruptly.

 

"Agent Gibbs?" Jimmy Palmer stood nervously next to the car holding an ice pack in one hand. "Dr. Mallard says I should give this--."

 

Gibbs took the ice pack and held it to his left thigh without a word, and Palmer took the opportunity to retreat.

 

Tony called to Palmer as he headed back down the hill, "Thanks, Jimmy." The raised hand told Tony he'd been heard and the apology was accepted. Tony found Gibbs' rudeness to the defenseless Palmer was worse than being short with him. Without a word Tony jumped in the driver's side, started the car and cranked up the heat. He got out and slammed the door shut.

 

Gibbs ran his hand through his hair and called out in exasperation, "Tony…"

 

Tony backed away, shaking his head. "No, I understand. If you need anything just hit the horn. I have to get back to work." He headed down the slope, recklessly, and blindly made sketches of the scene. He could sense everyone's eyes on him, but he kept his head down and did his job in silence. Afterwards he couldn't remember taking measurements but the drawing in his notebook proved he'd managed to perform his duty. By the time they had the scene wrapped up he was chilled to the bone. Finally back up on the roadway, the victim's body safe in Ducky's vehicle, Tony saw that the car they'd arrived in was gone, Gibbs and McGee with it.

 

"McGee just left," Ziva said without Tony asking. "He drove Gibbs back to the Navy Yard."

 

Tony nodded. They stowed the equipment in the truck and he let Ziva drive them back, for once without making any protest about her driving.

 

*

 

When the team arrived back at the bullpen, it was to find that Gibbs was not present. Neither was McGee. Tony had a war with himself about picking up his phone to call Jethro - sorry, Agent Gibbs - to ask how he was and if he'd gone to get his leg checked out. Tony didn't want to get his head bitten off again, that was for sure. McGee walked in an hour later, the look on his face a cross between relief and apology. To Tony's inquiring look he said, "I drove the boss home and saw he got inside, but he wouldn’t let me help him Tony. Sorry…"

 

McGee began to explain but Tony cut him off with, "Nothing to be sorry for, Tim," and began talking about the case. After that they made calls and background checks and did their standard investigation while they waited for forensics and autopsy results to appear. Around five o'clock Tony gave in and called Jethro's cell. He let it ring until the voicemail picked up and he left a short message. "We're still working on the case. Call if you need anything." After he hung up Tony took a deep breath and went down to talk to Ducky.

 

*

 

Tony stuck his hands in his pockets and acted nonchalant. "I won't keep you long, Duck. Just want to get a heads up about Gibbs. Do I need to drag him to the hospital or what?"

 

Ducky eyed him for a long moment and then said, "It appeared to be a case of deep bruising, Anthony. I suggested Jethro bend the knee, and use ice packs and plenty of painkillers. He'll be stiff tomorrow. If he can't put any weight on it or if there's severe pain or swelling, call me but also take him to the hospital, no matter what he says."

 

Tony felt drained and his voice reflected it. "He won't listen to me, Ducky."

 

"Nonsense, my dear boy. Oh he'll protest like mad but if you push the right buttons Gibbs will do whatever you wish."

 

"After today…" Tony shook his head. He knew Gibbs could be pig-headed and cranky at times but it wasn't like him to get so steamed up over an injury. Maybe something else was eating him. Christmas was not the time of celebration for either of them that it was for others.

 

Abruptly Ducky asked, "Have you been exchanging gifts with each other?"

 

Startled by the change of subject, Tony said, "Uh, yeah. Every day." He couldn't help smiling when he recalled their gift exchange so far. Foot massages and snowmen and sex.

 

"Mmm. Perhaps tonight the gift of patience is in order."

 

That brought a wry smile to Tony's lips. "I think we both give each other that gift every day, Ducky." He looked up to meet the ME's eyes. "How's your gift exchange going with Palmer so far?"

 

"I taught him some of my secret golf swings and he made me a CD of my favorite classical organ pieces, including Alexandre Guilmant's _Funeral March_. Very thoughtful of him." Ducky looked as if a thought had suddenly struck him. "I wonder…if he meant the gift as a pun?"

 

"Sounds like you're off to a good start. Call me when you're done with the autopsy, will you? I've got the lead until Gibbs says otherwise." Or snatches it back, Tony thought.

 

"Well, this young lieutenant's autopsy won't be complete for a while yet. I suggest you go home and take care of the other victim from this morning's scene. Oh, before I forget, take these pills for Jethro, will you?" He pulled a small envelope from his breast pocket and handed it to Tony. "I knew there was no point in giving them to him directly. He should take them with milk, and…a warning in your ear, my lad…they might knock him out."

 

"Thanks, Duck. I'll take care of him."

 

*

 

A quick visit to Abby meant that Tony had to explain that Gibbs had slipped in the snow and to assure her that he was only bruised. Of course she saw through him and Tony ended up fielding all sorts of questions to which he had no good answers. In the end Abby perceived how tired Tony was and let him go with a hug and a warning to take special care of her silver fox.

 

Before he left Tony stopped to ask her what gifts she and McGee had exchanged so far.

 

With a wicked smile Abby said, "I gave McGee a henna tattoo across his chest that says 'Leather Boy,' then I dressed him up and took him to a club."

 

"And he went willingly?"

 

She grinned at the sight of Tony's look of disbelief. "Oh yes, because I told him it was the only way I'd accept his gift to me." Abby jumped up and down waiting for Tony to ask her to explain further.

 

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, what did he want to give you so desperately?"

 

"I think Timmy has picked up Jimmy's foot fetish. He gave me a pedicure. Bathed my feet, painted my toenails. Yeah, he took care of my tootsies like a pro. It was awesome! Our Timmy has some hidden talents, and not just with my feet."

 

Once he was in the elevator, Tony broke out in laughter, remembering how turned on Jethro had been over his foot massage. He also wondered how he was going to sneak a photo of McGee's henna tattoo and post it on the Internet.

 

***end chapter 4***


	5. Chapter 5

Tony called it a day around seven p.m. and sent Ziva and Tim home.

 

On his way out of the building, McGee stopped Tony and said apologetically, "We were almost back here when he changed his mind and told me to take him home, Tony." He searched Tony's face for something and then added, "I know Gibbs made you the lead on this case but it….it's not like him. Is everything okay?"

 

Tony knew that McGee was really asking if everything was okay between him and Gibbs. "We're fine." Although neither Tony nor Gibbs spoke of their relationship at work, it appeared almost everyone knew about it. So far it had never intruded into the workplace and Tony wanted to keep it that way. Calling Gibbs by his first name had been a rare slip-up but they'd been alone. Tony was as protective of Gibbs as the older man was of Tony. "He's in good hands, McWorrywart."

 

Tony spent the entire drive home wondering how he was going to smooth the waters. It wasn't like Jethro to get so bent out of shape, though it wasn't often he was hurt badly enough to choose to go home instead of back to the Navy Yard.

 

It didn't help that he'd taken such a fall in front of the entire team; he was probably a bit embarrassed over that. But hell, they'd all looked like idiots in front of each other at some time or another. Tony smiled remembering Jimmy Palmer's out of control rush down a steep incline at one crime scene due to wearing designer loafers with absolutely no traction. And there was that time Tony had tumbled down a hill at another scene, soon after he'd beat Y. pestis. He'd ended up face down in the long grass, right at Kate's feet. She'd made merciless fun of him but being flat out turned out to be a lucky break, otherwise he'd never have spotted a bomb ready to blow, strapped under the victim's car.

 

As he pulled into the driveway at the side of the house Tony remembered that Gibbs' car was still in the NCIS parking garage. They'd go in together the next day and Gibbs could drive his own car home. If he went in tomorrow. If he could drive. If they were still talking. Talk about a McWorrywart.

 

*

 

Tony followed the lights from the hall to the stairs, up to the bedroom and into the bathroom, and that's where he found Gibbs, sitting in the bathtub up to his waist in water. There was a large box of bath salts on the tile floor and a set of fluffy bath towels warming on the heated towel rack.

 

He leaned casually against the doorjamb and waited. Patience, Ducky had said. Then patience it was. It was a good minute before Jethro gave any sign that he was aware of Tony's presence, and then all he did was relax his shoulders slightly. Tony stepped into the bathroom. One of the wives, probably number two, had renovated the upstairs during her short reign, and although they never talked about her by name, Tony was grateful for her good sense in enlarging and modernizing the bathroom. There was a full tub and a separate shower stall, double sinks and good lighting. The peach and white decor was a bit feminine but it was a pleasant space to relax in.

 

Tony removed his suit jacket and tie, put them safely aside, and rolled up his sleeves. He sat on the edge of the tub and picked up a washcloth.

 

Gibbs had tensed up again, and was leaning slightly forward, head down towards the water. He didn't say anything when Tony soaped and rinsed off his back. Tony was surprised to find the water was tepid. He turned on the hot water tap and held his fingers under the faucet only to discover there was no hot water forthcoming. That's when he realized that Jethro had been sitting in the tub long enough to have used up all the hot water. Shit. "You're getting sorta pruney in there. How about you come on out and we'll warm you up," Tony suggested gently.

 

Jethro continued to look down at the water but after a moment he nodded.

 

How the hell long had Gibbs been sitting there with the water getting cooler by the minute? Tony rose and bent over the man hunched over in the bathtub. "If I hold you under your arms, can you get your legs underneath you?"

 

After a longish wait, Jethro said, "Yeah." He didn't sound too sure about that.

 

Tony got a secure hold under Jethro's arms, practically giving him a bear hug, and on the count of three hauled him up. There was a moment when they were slightly off balance and almost fell but then Jethro got his legs under him and took some of his own weight. It wasn't easy but together they made it into the bedroom, Jethro limping heavily. Once he was situated on the bed Tony nipped back into the bathroom for a couple of the hot towels. He draped one across Jethro's lap and the other around his shoulders, then sat beside him on the bed.

 

"Where's that liniment you use?" From what he could see, Jethro's left thigh all the way up to his hip was swollen and discolored. He'd have a big bruise and stiffness for some time, Tony knew. "You should have used ice."

 

"I iced it when I came in," Jethro said defensively, sounding a bit like a kid caught doing something he shouldn't be doing. "Water wasn't that hot anyway." He glanced over at Tony and said, "Liniment's in the linen closet with the first aid stuff."

 

As he dried himself off, Jethro looked towards the dresser where he kept his clothes but Tony was there first. "Let me get it." He pulled out a shirt for sleeping in and then located a pair of loose sweatpants, which he put aside for later. Tony took a moment to change into similar comfortable clothing then said, "I'll go get the liniment."

 

He returned with the tube of Minard's liniment, which Jethro swore possessed near-miraculous healing properties. Tony was skeptical, especially after getting a whiff of the caustic-smelling ointment and reading the label proclaiming Dr. Levi Minard to be 'the King of Pain.'

 

With some wincing and a couple of sharp inhalations, Jethro, wearing only his t-shirt, laid down on his good side with his bruised leg exposed. 

 

Tony made sure he didn't make any comments about the state of the leg even though it was already discoloring as proof it had been badly damaged. He didn't say anything about the x-rays that Jethro had not had, nor the medical examination a doctor had not given him, nor the hot bath he should not have indulged in. He didn't speak of the frayed tempers or hurtful remarks from earlier. Instead Tony squeezed out a generous amount of medicinal, smelly cream from the big tube of liniment and applied it to Jethro's thigh with extreme care.

 

*

 

Jethro, wearing his comfortable sweats, sat in bed with his leg propped up on a pillow. He said he wasn't experiencing too much pain but the tautness around his mouth belied his words.

 

Tony entered bearing a tray with a plate of hot ravioli, a buttered roll, and a glass of something that looked suspiciously like hot milk on it. "Doctor's orders," Tony said. "Eat, then bed."

 

"I am in bed," Jethro retorted grumpily.

 

Tony unfolded the tray's legs and settled it across Jethro's lap. "Maybe I should keep you in bed where it's safe all the time. With handcuffs if necessary." Gibbs glared at him so Tony quickly added, "Of course I would stay in bed with you, so you can't get into trouble. Or we could cause some trouble together," he said playfully.

 

Gibbs asked gruffly, "You going to stand there all night?"

 

Taking that as an invitation, Tony said, "I'll get my dinner. Be right back." He returned with a second tray bearing a similar meal and carefully sat next to Jethro with his back against the wooden headboard. They ate, talking a little about the current case, and Tony reminded Gibbs that one of the gutters at the rear of the house looked like it was coming loose, and Gibbs reminded Tony it was his turn to do the laundry. When they had finished eating Tony took the trays downstairs, cleaned up the kitchen and locked up for the night.

 

He returned with a glass of water in hand, and held out two white tablets to Jethro on his outstretched palm.

 

Gibbs squinted at the pills but didn't make any move to pick them up.

 

Tony put the tumbler of water in Gibbs' hand and didn't retract his offering.

 

Sighing, Gibbs accepted the medicine and only after he swallowed them did he ask what they were.

 

There was no way that Gibbs could have seen any distinguishing marks on the white pills without his glasses. "They're from Ducky," Tony said innocently. He'd learned a long time ago not to outright lie to Gibbs.

 

Gibbs looked at him with suspicion but as he'd already taken the medicine there wasn't much he could do. He threw back the bedcovers causing Tony to jump up and rush to his side of the bed. Gibbs asked sarcastically, "Am I allowed to I take a leak?"

 

"I'm only here to spot for you," Tony replied evenly. He tried not to hover but it was obvious that Jethro's leg wasn't up to bearing any weight. The older man used the furniture to brace himself and then had to accept Tony's assistance to limp the last few feet into the bathroom. Tony stepped back once it appeared that Jethro could be left on his own long enough to use the toilet, but he made a point of leaving the door open. The toilet flushed, water ran, and Jethro appeared in the doorway. Tony was by his side once again.

 

Jethro winced every time he moved his left leg, but was able to make it back to the bed without any mishap. He was glad to be lying down again, and he let Tony fuss a bit with his pillows under his knee and behind his head.

 

Tony left one light on low and settled facing Jethro. They were only a foot apart but to him it felt like it was a mile.

 

Jethro took a deep breath and appeared to be ready to fall asleep but then rolled his head to the side and fixed his blue eyes on Tony. "You gonna stay way over there all night?"

 

"I don't want to hurt you."

 

"My feelings are gonna be hurt if you don't get the hell over here right now, Tony."

 

Tony didn't need another invitation. In a second he was snuggled up to Gibbs' good side. "You let me know if it's uncomfortable, okay?"

 

"Stop worrying."

 

"It's my job to worry."

 

Gibbs let out a huff of breath and kissed Tony on the forehead. "And here I was thinking that was my job." After a pause he said quietly, "I was watching you."

 

"When were you watching me?" He knew that Jethro watched him a lot, often when he thought that Tony wasn't aware of it. But Tony could often feel his lover's eyes on him, especially at work or when they were among other people and couldn’t let it be known they were together. It was as if so long as Jethro could keep Tony within sight, it was the next best thing to actually touching him. It made Tony feel wanted and needed.

 

"On that damned slippery slope."

 

Tony's eyes widened in realization. "Oh hell. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been fooling around with McGee."

 

"It was my own damned fault for not paying attention to where I was going." Jethro hadn't meant to suggest it was in any way Tony's fault. Hell, he got hot and bothered a half-dozen times a day by just looking at the younger man. He should have known better, especially when they were on the job.

 

"I'm sorry you got hurt, Jethro."

 

"Ah, at least I didn't break anything."

 

Tony relaxed and grinned over the memory of his antics earlier that day. "Did you see McGee and me? We almost fell on our asses just before you took off down that hill. Maybe we should try out for the winter Olympics luge team. I'd pay good money to see you in one of those skin-tight suits, sliding down the run at eighty miles an hour. No, on second thoughts, maybe not. That's too fast." And too dangerous.

 

Jethro smiled tiredly and slowly ran his hand down Tony's arm. "I don't think I'm going to be trying out for the Olympics anytime soon." His eyes sought out Tony's and he confessed in a low voice that held a hint of pain, "I couldn't get out of the tub. I tried." He brought Tony's hand up to his mouth and kissed the warm palm. Softly he said, "I made you angry. Couldn't blame you if you didn't want to come home to an old grouch."

 

"You're not an old grouch, Jethro," Tony insisted.

 

Jethro knew that to be a lie. "Yeah, well, I sat there in the tub and pictured being found days later, shriveled up like a raisin. I could imagine Ducky examining my dead body while he yammered on about some story from his past. 'When I was a wee lad in Scotland the constable discovered a body in a bathtub…'"

 

Tony laughed but then his smile faded. He knew how hard it had been for Jethro to admit he'd been unable to get out of the tub. Moving even closer, Tony wrapped his arm around his lover's waist. "Don't you ever do that again. Closing me out like that," he said in a low voice. He searched Jethro's eyes, needing to see that he truly understood that being taken care of by a loved one was not a sign of weakness. "I know it's hard for you, and that your knees ache in the morning, and your back sometimes, and your shoulder, and it's tough around the holidays with those memories and everything, but I honestly don't care if you're showing signs of age, Jethro." Tony gave a self-depreciating laugh. "I'm not getting any younger either, you know. I think I threw my back getting you out of the tub. Look, I just want you to get it through that thick skull of yours that the team doesn't care that you fell on your ass. And I want you to know that I'm gonna love you 'til we're both old and in wheelchairs and living in the old soldiers' home or wherever the hell grouchy Marines retire to." He cupped Jethro's face with his hand, rubbing his thumb gently across his cheek. "And I am always… _always_ going to come home to you. Capice?"

 

Jethro took a minute and then he nodded. "I was gonna give you another gift tonight."

 

With an exasperated sigh Tony said, "It can wait. This is enough gift for me, having you safe. I don't like it when you're hurt." Tony pulled Jethro in for a kiss, taking care not to jostle his bruised leg.

 

Jethro's mouth opened eagerly in response, encouraging Tony's tongue to investigate freely, angling his head and returning the tender, warm kiss in kind.

 

Tony expressed all of his love in that kiss and ran his hand under Jethro's shirt to gently stroke his chest and belly. "This is the best gift. Just us, together like this."

 

Jethro said sleepily, "I couldn’t want anything more. Love you so much, Tony."

 

In reply Tony caressed the side of Jethro's face once more and watched his eyes close. He could see that Ducky's medicine was taking effect, so he said, "Merry Christmas, baby. I love you, too."

 

***end chapter 5***

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning Gibbs was still groggy from the meds that Ducky had prescribed, but he arose when the alarm went off and announced defiantly he was going in to work as usual. It was obvious that his leg was giving him so much pain he could barely stand on it. He insisted all he needed was coffee and a hot shower, and wasn't about to take no for an answer.

 

Knowing his lover would try to take a shower on his own, Tony stripped down and offered Gibbs a supportive arm around his waist. "Turn the water on as hot as you can stand," he said. Together they shuffled into the shower stall. With Gibbs pretty much standing on one leg, Tony hung onto him from behind and let the steaming hot water run over them.

 

Even knowing that Jethro was hurt, Tony found their proximity arousing. His cock was doing its damndest to nestle between Gibbs' ass cheeks.

 

Jethro glanced over his shoulder with an eyebrow raised. "Is that a soap on a rope back there, DiNozzo, or are you just horny?"

 

Tony couldn’t help laughing. "I think the question is, are you making me hot, Boss, or is it just the water that's turning me on?" He could feel Jethro laughing in his arms, but then the older man shifted and put too much weight on his bad leg and he doubled over in pain, almost causing Tony to lose his grip. Tony somehow got them both out of the shower and with Jethro's arm slung over his shoulder they made it to the bed.

 

Tony went to turn the water off, and grabbed a couple of towels on his way back to the bedroom. Gibbs was rubbing his bruised muscles with his liniment. The bruise had colored up, ugly purple and maroon, and covered an area twice the size of Gibbs' hand, from his upper thigh to his hip. "There is no way you're going in to work today, Jethro," Tony said in his best 'don't fuck with me' voice.

 

"What, you think the investigation is going to run on its own power?" He snatched a towel and vigorously dried his hair and chest, avoiding Tony's eyes.

 

Tony halted in the midst of drying himself off. "Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought I was a trained investigator," he said sarcastically. "My mistake! I'll be sure not to assume anything again. After all, it's a rule not to assume, isn't it? And we know that Special Agent Gibbs knows what's best for everyone and has to remind us of our place in case we get uppity. Even though he's fucking crippled he still thinks he can drive himself into work and go out on cases. What _was_ I thinking?"

 

"Hell, Tony, I didn't mean it like that." Gibbs sent a silent appeal to Tony but he was met with a glare that the younger man had apparently learned from his boss.

 

"You know what, Gibbs, I'm gonna let this one slide on by because you're obviously in pain and you haven't had any coffee yet, which is a lethal combination. However, if I were you, I'd carefully - very carefully - consider whatever's going to come out of your mouth next, because I'm right on the edge of losing my patience."

 

Jethro sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. He nodded and reached out to pull Tony towards him, grasping his wrist firmly. Still pissed, Tony resisted and it took him all of ten seconds to allow himself to be drawn into the seated man's arms. To Jethro it seemed like a lifetime. He wrapped his arms around Tony's waist and laid his cheek on his firm stomach. "I'm an ass," Jethro admitted.

 

Tony ran his fingers through Gibbs' damp hair and held his head against his belly. "You're an ass all right," he said in an exasperated tone. "But you're my ass."

 

Jethro's hands slid down and he fondled Tony's rear end. "Mmm. Nice ass you've got, too."

 

A glance at the bedside clock told Tony it was nearly seven. "Shoot, I'd better get dressed before Ducky walks in on us."

 

"Ducky? What the hell's he coming here for, DiNozzo?"

 

Tony moved out of Jethro's reach and started to dress for work. "Uh, I think he said something about giving you a shot…?"

 

*

 

An hour later Ducky had come and gone and Gibbs was dressed in sweats and propped up in bed, his breakfast sitting next to him on a tray. Tony plugged in a heating pad and gently placed it on Gibbs' thigh, ignoring the dark look the man gave him. Still cringing sympathetically from the sight of a very long needle being inserted into Gibbs' thigh muscle, Tony leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I'll call you with any developments. And keep your cell phone in your pocket when you get out of bed in case you fall or anything. Call me--."

 

Gibbs grabbed hold of Tony's neck and pulled him down for a deep kiss, partially to shut him up, but also because he was mad at himself for way he'd let his anger leak out and affect Tony. "Just go or else I'll do something to make you stay."

 

Tony was reluctant to leave but he knew he couldn't linger any longer. "I'll call."

 

*

 

Tony did everything he could to get out of work early but he had to drive out into the middle of nowhere with McGee to conduct an interview for the case. They had identified the deceased they'd brought up from the bottom of the snowy slope, but not before he'd been dubbed Mr. Freeze. Turned out he was Navy Lieutenant James Conrad, and Ducky's report confirmed the man's neck had been broken before his body had been dumped. Although Tony had talked to Gibbs several times that day by phone, almost freaking out once when he hadn't picked up, imagining all sorts of scenarios - none of them good - Tony asked Palmer to drop by the house to see if he could do anything for Gibbs.

 

Jimmy was not eager but he was willing to do anything for Tony.

 

"Don't let him scare you, Palmer. Just be firm," Tony instructed, pissed that it would be several hours before he was able to go home. "Last time I talked to Gibbs he was downstairs on the couch, which is fine." Tony's shoulders tensed up when he thought of Jethro negotiating the stairs to the ground floor, but apparently he'd managed okay. Of course Jethro had only admitted that he was no longer in bed after Tony heard the rattle of a coffee mug being removed from the kitchen cupboard. "Oh, and Jimmy, he cannot, under any circumstances, go down in the basement. Get him some food, some coffee and get the hell out."

 

*

 

Home, finally. Lights were on downstairs. Tony entered by the side door and caught a glimpse of colored lights when he looked through to the living room, which was in near-darkness. The Christmas tree in the corner was adorned with tiny lights and was partially trimmed with shiny glass ornaments. Tony stood in the doorway for a minute, taking in the scene. There was a fire alight in the hearth and at the base of the tree were a couple of cardboard boxes with ornaments nestled in tissue paper.

 

Jethro sat on the nearby couch, offering a tentative smile of greeting. "Before you light into me, Palmer got the boxes out of the attic and brought them down here."

 

Tony removed his overcoat and joined Jethro on the couch. He took note of several empty coffee mugs, the remnants of a meal, a bottle of pain meds, cell phone, newspaper and crossword book on the coffee table, as well as the heating pad resting on the arm of the couch. Tony slipped an arm around Jethro's shoulder and pulled him in for a kiss. When their lips met it was a quest for assurance that everything was all right between them and a response of confirmation. "Looks like you're happy enough camped out here. You started trimming the tree."

 

"Yeah, well, I figured I might as well make myself useful since I was stuck at home today," Jethro said sourly.

 

Although Gibbs never complained about his health, he wasn't above a bit of coddling. At least he'd never refused outright when he wasn't feeling up to snuff and Tony took special care of him. And Tony might like a little tender loving care but he'd discovered it gave him even more pleasure to be able to do something nice for Gibbs.

 

Tony asked Jethro how his leg was feeling, knowing the man would never volunteer if it was painful. "That shot that Ducky gave you this morning must have worked."

 

Jethro shrugged and rubbed his thigh. "It stiffens up if I sit too long, but it's better," he said begrudgingly. "The liniment did the trick."

 

Tony laughed outright and wrinkled his nose. "Uh huh…it must be the liniment. It smells like turpentine." He nudged Jethro's shoulder with his own and could see him trying to hide a smile. "Do you want help decorating the tree?"

 

"Yeah. I thought you'd want a hand in making it look nice." After a pause Jethro added, "Some of the ornaments were broken but most are as good as they were twenty years ago. I uh…I think they've been hidden away long enough. Time we enjoyed them."

 

That was a big step for Jethro, accepting the past and embracing the future but Tony didn't make a big deal of it even if he suddenly felt his eyes prick with tears. Instead he pulled one of the boxes over and started to unwrap the fragile decorations, taking time to look at each one carefully. These were not the Jackson and Martha Gibbs family decorations - these were Jethro and Shannon's and they'd been packed away since '91. Tony smiled at a little metallic B-52 airplane and a spherical ornament that was painted to resemble Saturn. Then he pulled out a yellow paper star, obviously cut out by a child. There was a circular photo, glued in its center, of Kelly. Tony asked in a hushed voice, "How old was she here?"

 

Jethro took the star from Tony's hand and ran a thumb across the smiling face of his little girl. "Six, I think. She made it at school. Shannon painted some of these ornaments," he said, indicating brightly painted wooden animals and birds. "She liked to do that kind of crafty stuff. I cut the shapes for her. Don't know where I found the time but I did." He knew it was time to put the sadness away, but even so it was difficult.

 

"Would it be all right if we hang them on the tree?" Tony asked cautiously. He watched Jethro's expression, trying to gauge if he'd overstepped his bounds, but there was the beginning of a smile and a nod.

 

"I'd like that."

 

Tony rose and hung the paper star on one of the fir tree's boughs then sat down again. He rubbed Jethro's back and then wrapped his arms around him. They leaned back on the comfortable cushions, entwined, and together they watched the flames of the fire and the twinkling lights of their first Christmas tree.

 

***end chapter 6***

 


	7. Chapter 7

The next day, despite being on the receiving end of ominous looks from Tony, Gibbs was back at work. If he kept moving he was okay. His leg wasn't great, but at least he could walk without grimacing. Okay, he was limping a bit, but he was mobile. He'd had worse. Only thing was he'd never had anyone quite like Tony hovering over him, trying to make everything better.

 

Tony and McGee brought in a couple of people to interview about the murder, the widow and son of Navy Lieutenant James Conrad, aka Mr. Freeze. Tony liked the widow, Mary Conrad, for the crime even though it was improbable that the petite middle-aged woman who was presently cooling her heels in the interrogation room could have snapped the neck of the dead lieutenant.

 

The other suspect was Mrs. Conrad's sixteen-year-old son, who seemed far more fragile than his mother despite his strapping size. Turned out the young man, Raymond, all gawky six-foot-seven of him, was her son from a prior marriage. On the way in, the kid kept looking at his mother for guidance, but once they were separated he seemed more like a lost kid.

 

Ziva and McGee handled the young man's interrogation and were able to get a confession out of him in a short amount of time. "I believe Raymond is a little bit intimidated by women," Ziva observed with a wicked smile as an agent took the handcuffed teenager away.

 

"Maybe you reminded him too much of his mother," suggested McGee.

 

Tony, meanwhile, had to pull out all the stops in order to pin down the dead lieutenant's widow. It was only by acting like an annoying teenager that he managed to piss off Mrs. Conrad, to such an extent she slammed both hands flat on the interrogation-room table and shrilled at him to behave himself or she'd get Raymond to take care of him. Tony wrangled out of her that she had browbeaten her son into killing his stepfather. It hadn't been over money, or even due to passion, but because she didn't want to go to her in-law's house for Christmas dinner that year.

 

"What's the matter? His mom doesn't offer you any white meat?" Tony asked Mrs. Conrad as he escorted her down to the holding tank. "So much for the Christmas spirit."

 

*

 

They hadn't picked up another case by the end of the day so when the paperwork was complete and Mrs. Conrad and her son had been transferred to the county jail, the NCIS agents were free to leave.

 

While waiting for Gibbs to come back from reporting to Vance, Tony took the opportunity to ask Ziva what kind of gifts she and Damon had exchanged.

 

"Damon took me dancing," she said with a private smile.

 

"I thought the concept revolved around no-cost gifts, Ziva. You cheating a little?"

 

"I don't need to cheat, Tony. I did not say he took me out. Damon moved away the furniture in his apartment and we danced in candlelight. It was very romantic."

 

McGee turned his computer off and picked up his bag. "Well I think it sounds lovely, Ziva." He turned to Tony and raised an eyebrow. "And what about you and Gibbs, Tony? Did you re-gift one of your collection of power sanders to him again this year?"

 

"Low blow, McScrooge," Tony said with a laugh. "It just happens we have been giving each other gifts of a more…private nature." McGee looked away so Tony teased him, asking, "Now, tell me, how long does a henna tattoo last, Tim?"

 

McGee blushed. "Abby told you?"

 

Ziva perked up and moved closer, wanting to know more about Tim's tattoo, but he refused to spill.

 

Gibbs came from the direction of the elevator, favoring his left leg, so Tony grabbed his coat and gear and said over his shoulder in parting, "Gotta go. We need to get some photos of your temporary tat for the family scrapbook, McLeatherBoy!"

 

*

 

"I have to stop and pick up something, Jethro," Tony said as he pulled his car into the parking lot of a specialty market. "I'll be back before you freeze," he promised.

 

Gibbs eyed the food store and made a derisive noise. It was one of those shops that offered overpriced prepared foods, the kind of place he wouldn’t get caught dead in. "You'd better be quick or we'll end up broke."

 

*

 

Gibbs was about to go looking for Tony when he returned with a bag of groceries, which he put out of sight on the back seat. Gibbs looked at him sideways but knew enough not to ask any questions. They were almost home when Tony surprised him by taking hold of his hand. "You okay, Jethro? You're pretty quiet."

 

"Mmm."

 

Tony took that to mean Gibbs' leg hurt but he didn't say 'I told you so.' Instead Tony replied, "Hmm," knowing that Gibbs would understand him perfectly well.

 

As soon as they got home, Tony turned on the lights of the Christmas tree, still only partially decorated. He inhaled the piney scent and made an appreciative sound. Gibbs snuggled right behind Tony, arms around his waist and his hands linked across his stomach. Tony held his lover's hands in place and leaned back against his solid body.

 

"Smells good," Gibbs said. He kissed the side of Tony's neck. "You smell good, too."

 

"Our trees were always artificial," Tony said reminiscently. "They smelled like burnt plastic and any pine scent came from an aerosol can." He laughed even though it really wasn't funny. Tony turned in Gibbs' arms to face him and they kissed, slow and wet with plenty of tongue, like teenagers making out. When they came up for air Tony said, "I'd like to take it slow tonight. How about you get into something comfortable and then you can relax all evening by the fire. Do you want me to go up and get you a change of clothes?"

 

Gibbs shook his head but didn't release his hold on Tony, so the younger man raised his eyebrows in question. Looking serious, Gibbs said, "You did good today, Tony. Good interview."

 

Tony wondered where this was leading because Gibbs didn't usually hand out praise. "I couldn’t decide whether to be bad cop or clown cop so I merged them into a double feature."

 

"Accept the compliment, DiNozzo. You earned it today. The whole team did."

 

"Learned from the best," Tony said and then kissed Jethro again.

 

"You didn't learn any of your interrogation technique from me," Gibbs protested.

 

"No? Then maybe I can teach you how I do it," Tony teased, grinding his hips into Jethro's. His lips brushed over Jethro's mouth to his cheek and left a trail of damp kisses along his jaw and then he reclaimed his lips. It was only when Jethro shifted his weight that Tony remembered his leg was causing him discomfort. Their mouths parted but Tony stayed within the circle of Gibbs' loving embrace. "Hey, I'm sorry…"

 

Gibbs shook his head. "Just a bit sore when I stand for too long. I'll go change." He held Tony's face in both of his hands and kissed him once more. "Be back soon."

 

Tony watched Gibbs take the stairs at a slower pace than usual, but it was apparent that his bruised leg was causing him less trouble than it had the day before. He was thankful that Gibbs healed fast, and admired him for being stoic, even if it meant the man he loved was a hardass.

 

*

 

They ate a pasta dinner in the kitchen and then Tony told Jethro to go and make himself comfortable in the living room. By the time Tony joined him there was a roaring fire in the hearth.

 

Jethro, who was reclining on the couch with his eyes closed, opened them to see that Tony had set a couple of plates of dessert and two glasses of wine out in front of them on the coffee table.

 

"Chocolate cake with raspberry liqueur, sir," said Tony in an affected voice. "Being served with a sparkling white wine for your pleasure." He turned all of the lights off except for one and settled next to Jethro. "I know it isn't exactly a no-cost gift, but I couldn’t resist this cake. You'll love it." He watched Jethro take a cautious bite and laughed when he saw his eyes widen in appreciation. "Aha, I knew you'd like it."

 

"Mmm. Love it. Love you, too, Tony," Jethro said. He gave Tony a chocolate-flavored kiss and went back to eating his cake. They sat side by side and ate the decadent dessert by the light of the fire and after a while went up to bed together.

 

*

 

"I should have shaved," Gibbs said belatedly.  
  
"I like you all rough."  
  
"You'll get beard burn."

 

"Anywhere people will see it?" Tony asked with a chuckle.

 

"Let them see it and wonder." Jethro drew Tony in close for a long, deep kiss then pulled back to look at his handsome face. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, loving you like this."

 

Tony ducked his head and rested his cheek on Jethro's chest, but his lover touched him under the chin, encouraging him to look up and meet his eyes. "I've never felt like this before, Tony." He didn't know why it was so important for him to convince the younger man that he loved him so intensely. He did know that Tony was totally committed to him, and that it wasn't a fleeting thing. They both knew that by now. They might quarrel or grouse now and then, but it was never bad enough to fracture their relationship. And if it deteriorated that much then they'd find a way to mend it. Even though his personal history had proven that he could fail in a relationship, time and again, Jethro was determined this one would last a lifetime.

 

Jethro knew in his heart that he belonged to Tony, too, but there was still a small place in his brain that was not entirely convinced that he was worthy of such devotion. It was nothing short of a miracle that Tony wanted to be in this relationship as badly as he did. He could see it now in Tony's eyes, that look of trust and desire.

 

"Guess you don't have to worry then, because I'm not going anywhere," Tony said.

 

Jethro ran his hand over Tony's chest and then down his belly to caress the inside of his naked thighs, loving the way his lover parted his legs and made small needy noises in the back of his throat at the intimate touch.

 

"Jethro, let me take care of you this time," Tony said. "Please, for me." He urged Jethro to lie on his back and carefully straddled him. "Tell me if I hurt your leg."

 

"I'll be fine." Jethro was determined not to exhibit any sign of pain. If he allowed so much as a wince Tony would put a halt to their lovemaking and he didn't want to be the one to disappoint his younger lover.

 

A small tube appeared in Tony's hand. Gibbs squinted at the label. "That's some kind of lube?"

 

"Nope. Chocolate icing," Tony said with a grin. He drizzled the rich dark chocolate across Jethro's collarbone and around his nipples, then he tossed the tube aside. With a hand braced on either side of Jethro's chest he began to lick it off, making orgasmic sounds as he worked his way across his collarbone. "Oh God, you taste good, Jethro, mmmm." Tony rubbed his groin against Jethro's in a gentle rhythm, smiling when his lover's cock grew hard under him. His licking turned to sucking and once all of the chocolate was gone, and Jethro was lying there with his eyes half-closed and the corners of his mouth lifted in a smile of satisfaction, Tony took hold of one of Jethro's nipples between his teeth and pulled on it - hard.

 

"Ow!" Jethro grabbed Tony's arms and arched up towards him, but the teeth were latched onto his sensitive nipple and wouldn't let go. Jethro actually whimpered and pled, "Let go, let go," until Tony released the distended nub.

 

"You've never used nipple clamps?" Tony asked in disbelief. "Here, I'll make it all better." His hot tongue lapped around the nipple to ease the hurt he'd just caused.

 

Jethro touched himself to make sure his flesh was still intact. "Damn, that hurt!" Jethro grabbed Tony and bodily threw him on his back, capturing his hands on either side of his head. "You're gonna pay for that," he said heatedly.

 

Tony's eyes widened with anticipation and a little bit of apprehension. "Oooh, Jethro, gonna play rough now?"

 

"You started it. Turn over. On your belly," Jethro ordered sharply.

 

Tony did as he was told without any hesitation.

 

Jethro immediately pinned Tony down with the length of his body, making sure the younger man felt his full weight upon his back. He growled into Tony's ear, "I don't want to hear any words coming out of your mouth, boy. You can make noises but no talking. Got that?"

 

With a nod, Tony gasped, "Okay, yes, sure Boss--"

 

Jethro slapped him on the back of his head, causing Tony to squeak. "You deaf or just disobedient?"

 

Tony whimpered, "Disobedient? You gonna punish me, Boss?"

 

***end chapter 7***

 


	8. Chapter 8

The thought of punishing the man lying underneath him caused Jethro's cock to throb in response. All signs of resistance melted away from Tony's body. Jethro stroked the younger man's hair and smiled at the his acquiescence. "Damn right I am," Jethro said too softly to be convincing. "That's good. Now we're gonna roll onto our sides, me behind you." Tony started to roll to his left and Jethro corrected him. "The other way." He gritted his teeth when the movement caused a twinge in his bruised thigh muscle but decided that fucking Tony senseless was worth any amount of pain.

 

His hands wandered from Tony's hip to his ass. "Nice." He slapped the firm rear end and when Tony moaned with pleasure at his touch Jethro made an appreciative noise. "God, you're beautiful," he said, stroking between Tony's ass cheeks, his fingers lightly pressing against his puckered hole. Knowing he'd need lube Jethro reached around blindly on the bed until he located it and squeezed a generous amount onto his hand as well as on his hardening dick.

 

Tony was pushing his ass back, begging for more with little noises of encouragement, but Jethro wasn't about to be rushed. "You're gonna have to be patient, Tony. I've been waiting all day to give this to you and I want to take my time." He ran his slicked-up thumb around Tony's hole, rubbing around the entrance until the younger man squirmed and panted. Jethro penetrated him with his thumb and wiggled it back and forth. "You want something bigger than my thumb in your tight asshole, don't you, boy?"

 

"God, yes, please Jethro."

 

"You want my cock or maybe all you can take is a couple of fingers? Because I think maybe I'm too big for you, boy," he teased, sucking on Tony's earlobe and biting down on it just as hard as Tony had bitten him earlier. There was a small cry of pain so Jethro kissed Tony under his jaw then said, "Maybe I shouldn't even try." He drove his thumb in deeper and crooked it, making Tony gasp.

 

"No, I can take it. I can. Big is good! I love big! Please, Jethro!" Tony lifted his leg to give Jethro better access, and he was rewarded with a kiss to the back of his neck. The thumb withdrew and something far bigger nudged at his entrance.

 

Tony was moaning with every breath. "That's it, take me…"

 

"Yeah, you're just begging to be fucked, aren't you?" Jethro shifted to get the right angle. With a steadying hand on Tony's hip he gave a small thrust and his cock penetrated Tony's ass, forcing past the tight ring of muscle and into the welcoming heat. The feeling was so overwhelming Jethro stiffened with pleasure and he had to remind himself to breathe.

 

Tony's hand stroked his own cock, but Jethro reached around and slapped Tony's hand away. "Don't touch," he rasped into Tony's ear. "You get no say in this."

 

"But Jeth…Jethro…"

 

"No more talking," Jethro threatened. He grasped Tony's cock, twisted and pulled at the shaft and ran his thumb across the head, slippery with pre-come and felt it harden within his fist. Jethro pushed his hips forward and slowly slid his cock deeper into his partner, then a bit more until he was fully seated. He waited and took a breath then pulled back a bit. Once more he pressed home, hard and deep and from the way Tony's breath hitched, the way his muscles tensed, Jethro knew that he'd hit that sensitive spot. The sound of Tony's vocal reaction and the friction from his cock buried to the hilt in his lover's tight ass were incredibly erotic.

 

Slowly and deliberately he fucked Tony, hugging him close with his other arm. Tony moaned and moved with him, his hands clawing at the bedding to gain purchase. Jethro was aware of Tony's every reaction to his touch, loving the way his belly twitched and his ass clenched around the shaft buried deep inside of him, and the way Tony threw his head back and breathed raggedly with low moans escaping his throat.

 

Slowly Jethro's rhythm increased in tempo, with Tony moving in synch with him. They rocked with intensifying drive, the mattress bouncing under them, Jethro's balls slapping against Tony's ass, both of them moaning with need.

 

Tony's cock was leaking over Jethro's fingers, and he was bucking and heaving, his rhythm changing, now in counterpoint. Hearts beating and breathing erratic, bodies sweating, muscles straining, both men striving to gain the upper hand, to win a fight from which they would both emerge as winners, a struggle born of love and an intimacy that neither had ever dared to hope for.

 

Tony cried out as pleasure rippled through him, his semen coating his belly and Jethro's hand. He went limp in Jethro's arms, whispering, "Oh Jethro, oh Jethro," again and again until he simply lay there panting.

 

The pain in Jethro's leg intensified as he sought leverage, his muscles knotting up with every fierce jerk of his hips. He wouldn’t give in to it, gritting his teeth and making one more thrust and another and another and then the agony and pleasure merged and his dick felt like steel between his legs, his balls aching and he was ready to explode and he completely lost himself in his lover and came, shouting Tony's name. His body trembled with release and afterwards, when his cock slipped out, he lay there clinging Tony, unwilling to let him go. Jethro barely managed to kiss Tony's shoulder and say, "Good boy," before he gave in to sleep.

 

*

 

The next morning Tony had showered and was shaving when Gibbs, already dressed for work and on his third cup of coffee, entered the bathroom. He came up behind Tony and kissed him on the side of his neck. "Mornin'. You okay, Tony?"

 

Tony stretched and looked at Jethro in the mirror with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Okay? You mean apart from walking funny this morning after being fucked into the mattress last night?"

 

Jethro grinned. "Too much for my boy, was it?"

 

"Never too much," Tony replied. He finished shaving with his electric razor, put it away and turned into Jethro's hug. Tony gently ran his fingertips over Jethro's polo shirt and across his nipple, the one he'd bitten during their lovemaking. He felt it harden beneath two layers of clothing. "Did I do any damage?" he asked remorsefully.

 

"Nothing permanent."

 

"You need a band-aid?"

 

"I'm not walking into work with a band-aid over my nipple, Tony."

 

"I could kiss it better if that would help," Tony suggested.

 

"Wasn't that how the whole thing started?"

 

"I thought it was because of the chocolate icing." He licked his lips suggestively.

 

"So much for my rule about no food in bed," Jethro said, pulling a face. He kissed Tony and just as his tongue began to delve deeper into Tony's minty fresh mouth his cell phone rang. Holding onto Tony with a one-armed embrace, Jethro pulled his cell off its clip on his belt. "Gibbs. Yeah." He listened for a few seconds, grunted and hung up. "Petty Officer found dead under her Christmas tree. Gotta get to work."

 

***

 

Whether or not the people who worked at NCIS were exchanging holiday gifts, there was a festive feel in the air in the week leading up to Christmas. An impromptu singalong broke out by the watercooler and Tony nudged Gibbs to join him in a chorus of _Let it Snow_ , but the team leader glowered and refused, backing away with his hands raised. Abby concocted a batch of coffee-flavored eggnog in her lab and shared it with the team; even Gibbs thought it was delicious and came back for seconds. One day McGee brought in a batch of gingerbread men, with 'NCIS' emblazoned across their chests in icing sugar. "Mom sent them for me to share with the team," he said. The accounting department pencil-heads had their annual fruitcake competition against their bitter rivals, the cyber crimes geeks, with Director Vance as the judge.

 

Despite the holiday mood, serious crimes were still being committed. Gibbs' team was called out on three cases over the next few days, each one as bad the next. First there was the rape and brutal homicide of a female petty officer, strangled with the lights of her own Christmas tree. Then a husband and wife, both military, killed each other in a domestic squabble with their children looking on. A couple of days later a series of seemingly unrelated bomb threats to several Naval properties landed in their laps.

 

The next few days the agents were kept busy.

 

*

 

On the first day, the case of Petty Officer Myra Rodriguez's death was solved when her boyfriend confessed to raping and murdering her. It was a crime of passion, he admitted remorsefully. The team collected evidence, ran interviews and forensics, processed the perpetrator, finalized their reports and were finally able to drag themselves out of the office well after midnight.

 

*

 

With eyes still half-closed with sleep, Gibbs groped his way into the kitchen the next morning, limping a bit. His bruise was significantly better but he was stiff and achy. The only light in the kitchen came from the small bulb under the microwave but the gray light of dawn filtered in through the window over the sink. Gibbs knew exactly where to find his favorite old mug and the pot of fresh coffee, piping hot due to the pre-set timer. He drank his rich black coffee slowly while looking blearily out the window at the back yard, now covered in the remainder of last week's snow. The frozen garden looked decidedly sad this time of year, the only sign of life being the birds and squirrels flitting around the bird feeder.

 

Although the previous day's case had been wrapped up in record time, it left a bitter taste in everyone's mouth. Maybe it was due to the brutal nature of the crime, or perhaps it was because it had happened so close to the holidays.

 

Christmas had not been a happy time for Gibbs for quite a few years, and he'd been concerned that this year he was going to inadvertently put a damper on Tony's enthusiasm. He was trying to get into the spirit of things though. The past week had many special moments, with giving gifts from their hearts to each other. Gibbs wasn't the kind of man to collect and cherish small but meaningful memories. Or at least he hadn't since the early days of his first marriage. Now, with Tony's fun-loving, sweet, and oh-so-hot presence, the things they did together seemed to have taken on a new meaning. Everything Tony did, from enjoying their first Christmas tree to being sensuous and generous in bed, touched Gibbs' heart.

 

He'd always been an early riser but lately Gibbs had a hard time getting up in the morning. He could blame that on Tony, he thought with a smile. Tony…to think they'd worked close together for years before either one of them had realized, and finally admitted, that their relationship was destined to proceed to a whole new level. Well, it certainly seemed as if they'd hit a high recently. Gibbs had never felt so fulfilled, so complete, so damned loved.

 

Changing gears between work and home life had become a habit since they'd become partners and they'd both strived to keep all the bad shit that came with their job from bleeding into their personal time. Gibbs had also had to ensure he didn't allow his affection for his head field agent to show when they were in a work mode. There were times when he couldn’t take his eyes off Tony and he was afraid everyone could see the lust in his eyes. It had not been easy, though for some reason Tony seemed to handle change better than he did. Gibbs thought that maybe it was his age that had made it tough for him to adjust…old habits died hard.

 

*

 

Gibbs finished his coffee and poured himself another mug to take upstairs to drink when he shaved and dressed. That's when he noticed a large post-it note stuck on the cabinet above the coffeemaker. He peeled the pale yellow note off the cabinet and squinted at it to decipher Tony's handwriting. Tony had written, in large block letters, "LOVE YOU JETHRO." Gibbs chuckled and began to head for the door when he noticed that there were more post-its - a lot more. He blinked and realized that Tony had stuck notes on every cabinet, door, wall, and on the fridge.

 

He slowly walked around the kitchen, taking his time, reading every one. "YOU'RE EVERYTHING" "I'M YOURS FOREVER" "WITHOUT YOU I'M NOT COMPLETE" "YOU'VE AGED LIKE A FINE CHEESE" "I'D DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN" "THERE IS NO FOR WORSE, ONLY FOR BETTER" "BOSS" "LOVE YA BIG GUY" "WITHOUT YOU I'D BE LOST" "MARRY ME (KIDDING)" There were several only with hearts drawn on them, and one with a simple drawing of two snowmen holding hands.

 

Gibbs looked around to see Tony lounging against the doorjamb, wearing an old pair of sweats, his chest bare, obviously fresh out of the shower.

 

Tony ran a hand through his still-damp hair, causing it to stand up in spikes. "So you saw them. I was afraid I'd need to tape your reading glasses over the coffeemaker," he said casually.

 

Too casually, Gibbs thought. He could tell that his reaction to the gift of the loving post-it notes mattered a lot to the younger man. He carefully placed his coffee mug on the counter, then held out his arms in invitation and said in a voice colored with emotion, "I love you too, babe." In a flash Tony was in his arms and Gibbs held him tight, as if he was never going to let him go. He murmured into Tony's neck, "Was that yesterday's gift?"

 

Tony nodded. They'd come home late and Tony had almost fallen asleep over a hastily made dinner. They had been in bed and snoring before either had thought of the daily gift exchange. "When'd you do all this?" Gibbs asked.

 

With a shrug Tony said, "You were asleep."

 

"Thank you, Tony."

 

Pleased, a smile lit up Tony's face. "You have something planned for tonight? Because I don't mind if we miss a day, you know. We can wait 'til after Christmas, when we're on vacation."

 

"I'm not about to miss anything." Jethro slid his hands up Tony's back to his shoulders, holding him close. Tony made a small sound of pleasure. "Just one thing, Tony…"

 

"Yeah?" Tony asked drowsily.

 

"That note you wrote about aging like cheese?"

 

"Cheese?" Tony's eyes scanned around the kitchen and located the note that said YOU'VE AGED LIKE A FINE CHEESE. "Oh. Guess I was dead on my feet when I wrote that one, Boss. I meant wine." He kissed Gibbs and smiled winningly. "You're like fine, full-bodied, expensive wine. Worth every drop."

 

"Good catch, Tony." Gibbs stood there in his old t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, drinking coffee out of a chipped mug, with his partner's arms wrapped around him, watching the blue jays vying with squirrels for seed at the bird feeder out in the wintery yard. Tony leaned into him and sighed with contentment. Jethro decided that this was turning out to be a very good Christmas after all.

 

*

 

The next day they determined that the Navy husband and wife killing was open and shut due to irrefutable witnesses. He had knifed her and she had shot him in front of their three children and an adult neighbor. The case kept the agents working late once again.

 

*

 

Gibbs glanced at the wall clock…again. It was 1800 and Ducky and Palmer had already left for the day. Ziva and McGee were out collecting witness statements and were due back at any time. Once they returned the team could finish writing up the case files and they could all head home.

 

Tony had brought back takeout food an hour ago, which they'd consumed, and now he was down in Abby's lab. Probably sampling her eggnog, Gibbs thought, which by now the goth would have spiked. He was looking forward to tonight, just snuggling up, giving Tony his gift and watching a movie with him. A couple of weeks earlier, when Tony wasn't at home, Gibbs had put on his reading glasses and carefully looked over all of the holiday movies in Tony's massive DVD library. It had taken him a while and some cross-referencing with a book of DVD reviews, but Gibbs had determined that Tony's Ultimate Christmas Collection was missing a couple of titles. With the assistance of a very young salesperson at the Potomac Video, Gibbs had ordered the perfect DVD to add to Tony's collection.

 

*

 

"Finally," Tony said as he plopped down on the couch next to Jethro. "I thought we'd never get out of work today. At least those kids have relatives living nearby who were able to take them in and…uh…Jethro…that's the DVD remote." His tone was that of a parent discovering his child was running with a sharp object. Tony reached to take the control out of Gibbs' hand, and was surprised when the older man warded him off and held it out of his reach.

 

"Hey! I've got it, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, affronted.

 

Tony stared at his lover and wondered what had come over him. "It's for the DVD player," Tony explained carefully.

 

"I'm not stupid, Tony. And I might be as aged as cheese--."

 

"As wine," Tony cut in. "Fine wine." He sniffed the air. "Do I smell popcorn?"

 

"Just sit back and don't touch anything," Jethro said. "Be right back." He headed for the kitchen and returned shortly bearing a large bowl of popcorn and a couple of cold bottles of beer. "This is the Leroy Jethro Gibbs movie night," he said, suppressing a smile at the dumbfounded look on Tony's face.

 

When he picked up the remote Jethro squinted at the buttons, but once he found the one he was looking for he didn't hesitate to press it. "There."

 

Tony took a handful of popcorn and looked sideways at Jethro and asked with a hint of admiration, "You've been learning new tricks when I wasn't looking?"

 

"You accusing me of being an old dog?" Jethro motioned towards the screen of their big TV. "Pay attention, Tony. The movie's starting."

 

Tony sat there with his mouth open when the titles began and then he looked to Jethro, eyes as wide as a kid's. "Double feature! _Holiday_ and _Christmas in Connecticut_! Oh, Jethro…" He kissed Jethro hard on the cheek and immediately turned back to the screen. "I love _Holiday_! 1938, George Cukor directed. Cary Grant shocks his fiancée's parents when he tells them he's retiring at an early age so he can have fun when he's still young. Doesn't this remind you of Magnum? Have fun in the sun when you're young is his motto. Look! Katherine Hepburn is the oddball sister and she falls in love with Grant…"

 

Gibbs didn't follow everything that Tony was telling him, and truth be told he didn't pay a lot of attention to the old film either. As it played he realized he must have seen it many years ago, probably on the Midnight Movie on TV with his dad. Not that it made any difference because the only person he had eyes for was the younger man sitting next to him on their living room couch, the one enthralled with the old movie, the man he loved so much it sometimes hurt. Jethro slipped his arm over the back of the couch and around Tony's shoulders. He relaxed into him and just enjoyed the show.

 

***end chapter 8***

 


	9. Chapter 9

The bomb threat case that Gibbs' team took on during the days that led up to Christmas proved to be difficult to solve. Three of the bombs, each discovered on a subsequent day, and all of different designs, did not detonate, so they had plenty of forensic evidence. It wasn't clear whether the devices were intended to explode or if the aim was to create anxiety on American soil. Although the team couldn’t initially tie the incidents together Gibbs's gut told him they were in some way related.

 

*

 

The day the first bomb was discovered they worked late checking out every lead they could pursue. Forensics, searches for the origins of the explosive components, interviews and statements - all parts of a puzzle that gave them no solid leads. Eventually Gibbs called 'time' and sent everyone home.

 

After eating Chinese take-out Gibbs started a fire in the hearth and then he and Tony sat down together to watch the second movie on Tony's new Christmas DVD. It was _Christmas in Connecticut_ , in which Barbara Stanwyck played a food columnist who passed herself off as a perfect housewife.

 

"I love this," Tony declared happily as he handed Jethro a beer and settled on the couch in the crook of his arm to watch the movie. "She can't cook or anything and when a war hero is invited for a traditional Christmas dinner at her non-existent home in Connecticut she has to scramble to find a house, be the perfect hostess and learn how to cook. Of course she falls in love with Dennis Morgan - he's the war hero - and her lie is exposed. My mother loved him. Said he had bedroom eyes. You know him, right? He was in a lot of buddy movies with Jack Carson."

 

"I know who Stanwyck is." Gibbs took a sip of his beer and chuckled. "I know that this plot reminds me of us, Tony. You pretend to cook and then you fall in love with the war hero."

 

Tony dug his elbow into Jethro's ribs. "Hey, I know how to cook." Jethro raised an eyebrow in disbelief so Tony amended, "I can make sauce and spaghetti and…uh…okay so my repertoire is a bit limited, but you never complain about my Spaghetti DiNozzo."

 

Jethro slipped his arm around Tony's shoulders and rubbed his arm. "If I ever do you can kick me to the curb. Love you just as you are, Tony."

 

Tony slid down a bit on the couch so his head rested on Jethro's shoulder, smiling at his lover's words. After a while he turned the volume of the movie down a bit. "Did you have good Christmases at your house when you were growing up, Jethro?"

 

"Well, sure."

 

"Tell me about them."

 

Jethro thought about that for a bit. "Dad closed the store for the day and we usually went to visit one of the relatives. Aunt May was my favorite. She was Jackson's younger sister. Must have been twenty people at the table. Big meal, games with the cousins. If there was snow we'd sled down this big old hill behind Uncle Frank's barn over in Morristown." He was quiet for a bit, remembering the past while the movie played on in the background.

 

Tony prompted, "What kind of sled was it?"

 

"What kind? Oh, I don't know…one of those wooden ones with metal runners."

 

"A Speedway," Tony said with a nod. "I always wanted one of those."

 

Jethro looked down at Tony and wondered how he'd known what brand of sled he'd had as a kid. "Yeah, I think that's what it was called. Worked best on really cold days." Jethro laughed. "We would tie one of the dogs to the sled and get him to pull us. Sometimes we'd pick up speed and pass the dog even though he was running full out."

 

Tony watched the movie for a while and then said, "I'd like to do that."

 

"Go sledding?"

 

"Yeah, but…" He sat up and twisted to face Jethro. "I have an idea…"

 

*

 

The second bomb was discovered, disarmed, and the investigation proceeded. One bomb was bad enough, but another one on the very next day promised something worse. Gibbs' team spent all day and half the night following up on leads, none of them fruitful.

 

In the small hours of the morning, when Gibbs and Tony finally got home, they immediately collapsed into bed. Tony snuggled right up against Jethro's side but some time later he was still awake. No way was he going to get to sleep. This happened to him all the time when they were in the middle of a case. It was as though his brain was running around a track, occasionally leaping a hurdle, and there was nothing he could do to cross the finish line and catch his breath.

 

"Hey, stop thinking," came Jethro's gruff voice.

 

"Sorry. Go back to sleep," Tony whispered. He turned over and started to slip out of bed when Jethro's hand caught his wrist.

 

"Where're you going?"

 

"Downstairs," Tony said softly. "You need your sleep."

 

Jethro sighed but he didn't release Tony. "I really don't wanna go chasing after you." When Tony didn't make any move to return to their bed, Jethro hauled him back with enough force that Tony landed across his chest. Jethro's hand slipped down to roll Tony's balls in his hand as he said huskily, "I can't sleep without you here." He smiled when he felt Tony's cock twitching in response to the fondling. "Yeah, I thought so." Jethro pressed a rough open-mouth kiss on Tony's lips and moaned when their tongues met. It only took a few strokes and a twist or two and his lover's cock was hardening nicely.

 

Tony's hands were roaming freely along Jethro's thighs, across his ass, then up his back until he was clinging to his shoulders and moving his hips side to side then thrusting into Jethro's hand. "Oh God," Tony cried, his breath quickening. His hips bucked. "I'm not gonna last…"

 

"Shh, it's all right, just let it go. I'll take care of you." Jethro slipped down the bed. He pushed Tony's legs apart and tentatively licked the tip of his leaking cock before he took it in his mouth. He was rewarded with a deep moan from the younger man, and that was enough to make his own dick harden instantly.

 

As soon as Jethro's lips fastened around his cock, Tony took hold of Jethro's head. The crisp, thick hair felt like heaven between Tony's fingers, the shorter hair at the nape of the ex-Marine's neck rough and bristling from a recent haircut. Then Jethro's tongue teased and taunted his erection making Tony pant and moan in mindless pleasure.

 

Jethro went at it with teeth and lips, sucking hard and releasing, stopping briefly to lick his lips before hungrily going back for more. Tony's reactions, his moans, his fingers moving to Jethro's shoulders to dig hard into his muscles, his hips rising in an attempt to get more - all of these things as well as the smell and the taste that were unique to this man turned Jethro on. One of Jethro's hands grasped the base of Tony's shaft and pumped and the other rubbed the tight balls. Whatever he was doing seemed to be working, judging from the undulations and sounds that Tony was putting out. Jethro lost himself in the act, taking all of Tony's cock into his mouth, swallowing him, his own hips thrusting into the bedding, the friction pleasurable but frustrating.

 

"God…that's right… oh…" Tony's voice rose in volume until he was shouting. "I can't…hold it…" His eyes were closed, his breathing ragged as he strained into Jethro's warm, moist mouth that seemed to be sucking down his entire being. He hungered for more and bucked as the pressure in his balls increased and then he was arching and crying out, "I'm coming! Oh my God…Jeth…ro!"

 

When it was over and his breathing was still labored, Tony slowly opened his eyes. Jethro was resting, a hand on one of Tony's wantonly spread knees, his head resting on Tony's thigh. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement and there was a great big satisfied but tired smile on his face. "Tony, can we go to sleep now?"

 

*

 

They slept soundly through the rest of night, awoke to the sound of the alarm, and dragged themselves in to work to continue with the investigation. That day the third bomb was discovered. Once it was rendered harmless by the bomb squad it was sent to Abby's lab for forensic analysis.

 

*

 

Director Vance called in a Naval explosive expert to work at Abby's side even though she protested vehemently. Despite her initial misgivings, Corporal Daniel Massey, a slight young man with auburn hair, proved to be in line with her way of thinking and they made progress with the investigation.

 

Gibbs and Tony went down to the forensic lab to see what results Abby had for them and ere introduced to the corporal.

 

"Gibbs! Gibbs, Daniel and I have found out that all of the explosive devices are made up of old mechanisms from the dark ages. Really old. Like before 1980," Abby said excitedly.

 

Gibbs looked sourly at Abby and replied, "From before you were born?"

 

"Not exactly." She had a quick look at her assistant and whispered to Gibbs, "Before Daniel was born, anyway." Corporal Massey looked no more than twenty years old, as fresh-faced as a recruit. "Would either of you like some eggnog? Tony? I have vanilla and coffee flavor. Spiked and unspiked," she enticed.

 

Tony nodded and smiled until he caught the look Gibbs shot at him. "Uh, no thanks Abby." He mouthed the word, 'Later,' when he thought Gibbs wasn't looking.

 

Abby was about to discuss the case when she looked from Tony to Gibbs and narrowed her eyes. "You two look sort of tired. Has the Christmas spirit been passing you by? I hope you've been giving each other gifts like you said you would."

 

"We're fine," Tony said with a grin. "Just yesterday Gibbs gave me a very fulfilling gift. It didn't cost him a penny, either." He took a step away from his boss and out of the way of his hand, should Gibbs be in the mood to headslap him. "What have you and McGee been up to?"

 

"Snowball fight, loser getting naked. Stargazing with his friend's telescope." Abby pivoted to face Gibbs. "Are you sure you don't want some eggnog?"

 

"Abby," Gibbs said impatiently. He turned his head to look at Tony and suddenly remembered the way his lead agent's dick felt in his mouth, hot and throbbing. Forcing his errant thoughts out of his head, Gibbs turned back to Abby, his face set in serious mode. From the look in her eyes she saw right through him.

 

"Oooh, so your gifts are more of a personal nature," she said with a knowing smile, causing Tony to blush.

 

Gibbs noticed the corporal was looking from him to Tony speculatively, so he said with a growl, "We're leaving. DiNozzo, you're with me."

 

"But Gibbs! But there's more!"

 

"I'm not guessing, Abbs. Just give it to me."

 

"Spoilsport. All three bombs were made by the same person. They all look like they were made in a home workshop, put together with metal pipes and a variety of easily obtainable components. All crudely constructed. Deadly though, if they'd gone off. But this is where it gets interesting." Abby had a look on her face, a mixture of excitement and anticipation that revealed how much she loved her job.

 

Corporal Massey pitched in, "He progressed to batteries and heat filament wires in the second bomb. Textbook Ted Kaczynski. The third one is bit more sophisticated, which makes us think he's learning from each progressive bomb he constructs, even if it appears that he made these within the past few days."

 

"You _think_? You don't know?" asked Gibbs, sharply enough so the corporal backed off a couple of steps.

 

"Oh Gibbs, don't scare Daniel off. There is a common factor in all of the bombs so far, apart from the triggers being faulty and not going boom, which is really a majorly big factor if you're making bombs in the first place because they're totally about the boom. They all contain a different combination of shrapnel, nails and ball bearings, but the one thing they all have in common is the Belfast confetti in the shrapnel."

 

"Metal waste found in shipyards," Gibbs said quickly.

 

"Very good, Gibbs! Give the man some eggnog! Ah, but it's not just _any_ confetti." Abby moved to her computer and brought up images of artillery shells and data to support her findings. "These metal scraps originate from retired U.S. artillery shells, circa 1982, and there is only one place on the East coast where it could have come from." She handed Gibbs a printout showing the location where the ordinance used for the shrapnel was being stored, just outside DC. "Here at this military recycling storage yard."

 

"Good work, Abbs," he said bestowing a quick kiss on her cheek. Gibbs barely nodded to the young colonel by her side. "Reward yourself with some eggnog," he said as he strode out the door. "The stuff without the spike, Abby."

 

*

 

The team drove out to the military recycling yard, talked to the crew running the place, and ran down several leads but nothing panned out. Dead ends led to frustration and as the day turned to night and the hour grew late tempers flared. Ziva was testy to Tony, Tony picked on McGee, and McGee even barked back at Gibbs at one point.

 

"Enough, people. Go home," Gibbs ordered. "We start again in the morning. Look at it with fresh eyes."

 

*

 

As soon as they arrived home Gibbs fucked Tony over the kitchen table before they even took their jackets off. He pressed Tony face down on the sturdy wooden table, a hand firm in the small of his back. A bottle of cooking oil grabbed off the counter. Pants were quickly unzipped. Tony's trousers were shoved roughly down to his knees, baring his ass. There was no preparation. There were no soft touches, no kind words. Gibbs thrust and Tony accepted. Panting, grunting, swearing - both men came violently under the glare of the overhead fluorescent light. It was pure, unadulterated, primal sex that filled a base need.

 

Afterwards, when they showered together, Tony held a subdued Gibbs in his arms, gently soaping his back, shampooing his hair for him, drying him off. Once they were in bed Tony continued with gentle strokes and placating murmurs, letting Gibbs know that he understood, and that he loved him, not only despite of, but because of his need.

 

*

 

The next day another bomb was discovered on a Navy base, the fourth one in as many days. That time the bomb went off and took the lives of two Naval officers with it. The subsequent investigation led the MCRT special agents to their prime suspect, a retired Navy clerk with no explosive ordinance experience. It was determined that the clerk, who had worked part time at the scrap yard, bore obvious signs of mental imbalance and held a grudge against the Navy over issues with his pension. By the time the team's investigation was complete and their suspect had been interrogated and charged, it was 1800 hours on the 23rd of December.

 

Tony reclined in his chair at his desk, waiting for Gibbs to join him. "One more day at work, then we're free," he said with glee.

 

McGee asked, "Are you all set with your vacation, Tony?"

 

"Oh yeah, the islands, sun, surf and…" Tony watched Ziva putting her coat on and gathering up her things. "Ziva, are you going skiing with your senior citizen friend over the holidays?"

 

"He is not so old that you can call him senior, Tony. It is not a January-December affair."

 

"May-December," Tony corrected. He leaned forward elbows on his desk. "Very Blame it on Rio, playing in the Florida sand. Or Daddy Long Legs, 1955, with emails instead of hand-written letters."

 

McGee frowned at Ziva. "Doesn't Damon care?"

 

Ziva looked puzzled. "What does Damon have to do with Mr. Sunset?"

 

"Well, for starters he's trading gifts with you that involve romantic dancing in candlelight," McGee pointed out.

 

"Burning the candle at both ends?" teased Tony.

 

"Damon and I have an understanding," Ziva said defensively. "This exchange of gifts is between friends. That is all we are. No more. Men and women can be friends without it being sexual."

 

Tony and Tim looked at her for a moment and then at each other. They laughed in unison. Together they remembered Kate saying much the same thing years earlier. At the same time they blurted, "Technically."

 

Gibbs came down the stairs, declaring they'd complete the reports tomorrow. "Everyone go home!"

 

Ziva headed for the elevator, McGee wasted no time hurrying down to meet up with Abby and go home with her, leaving Tony and Gibbs standing in the empty bullpen, a foot apart.

 

Tony said threateningly, "You promised you'd do it, Gibbs. No backing out. No excuses."

 

Gibbs took a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. "Fine, if I have to. You lead the way DiNozzo."

 

***

 

Gibbs sighed. He really did not want to be fighting the crowds in the busy shopping district on a cold winter's evening, but he'd promised Tony he'd accompany him. The younger man had been zipping in and out of the boutiques and shops for the past hour, dragging Jethro along with him. Gibbs had to admit that accompanying Tony on this jaunt was akin to keeping up with a golden retriever chasing a bouncing ball. He wondered where the young man got all his energy, especially after the busy schedule they'd had due to the past week's investigations.

 

"Jethro, come on," Tony cried, grabbing hold of his lover's sleeve and dragging him into a store that specialized in imported sweaters. Gibbs rolled his eyes but went along for the ride. The salesman, a neatly dressed balding man in his fifties, was immediately drawn to Tony and the two started conversing as if they were old friends. Gibbs, who was standing close to the doorway, ready to make his escape as soon as the opportunity presented itself, frowned as he caught the man, who Tony was now calling Tyrone, laughed with Tony over something he'd said.

 

Gibbs set his jaw and was about to butt in when Tony looked around the store, located him and smiled. It was one of his brilliant, from the heart smiles, the no-holds barred kind that melted Gibbs' knees and stiffened his dick every time one was sent his way.

 

"Jethro, look at this Aran sweater!" Tony held a bulky cream-colored fisherman's knit sweater to his chest, his hand stroking across the intricately knitted stitches. "It's so Richard Burton," he exclaimed. To Tyrone he said, "Gibbs needs a sweater, too." Tyrone held an Aran cardigan up to Gibb's chest, ignoring the dark looks the man was sending him. Tony made Gibbs remove his jacket and try the cardigan on, then stood next to Tyrone to weigh how it looked on him.

 

"We agreed, no gifts," growled Gibbs.

 

Ignoring Gibbs, Tony complained to Tyrone, "He looks like Mr. Rogers."

 

Tyrone pulled out a cashmere turtleneck sweater in cornflower blue. "This is lovely and it matches his eyes," he suggested.

 

"No," Tony said almost immediately. "That's too _Ed Woods_. Gibbs is more Steve McQueen in _Bullitt_. Picture black turtleneck, ribbed, with a leather shoulder holster."

 

Tyrone looked Gibbs up and down and smiled in understanding. "Oh, I have just the thing."

 

When Tyrone had gone to search for just the right sweater, Tony sidled up to his boss with an impertinent smile and let the back of his hand brush against Gibbs' groin. Gibbs' reaction was to jump back but Tony cornered him in an alcove that offered a rack of sweaters for cover.

 

"Jesus, Tony…" Gibbs warned. He brushed Tony's wandering hand away with a scowl.

 

Tony remained close but didn't touch Gibbs again. "I just want to buy myself a sweater to wear when we're sitting in front of our cozy fire. And I want to buy you one, too. It's not a Christmas present, just a…an I love Gibbs present."

 

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it," he said in a low voice, trying not to smile at what Tony had just said. Gibbs' eyes darted around the small store. At that moment they were the only customers in the place, for which he was thankful for due to the hard-on he was now sporting, courtesy of Tony. "I'm gonna get you back for this, DiNozzo."

 

"Oh, I'm looking forward to it, Jethro."

 

Tyrone returned with a charcoal gray wool crewneck sporting patches on the shoulders and elbows. "Very military. Just the thing," he said proudly.

 

Tony grabbed it. Before Gibbs could protest, Tony proclaimed, "Perfect! We'll take them both and we'll be wearing them. Gibbs, give Tyrone your sports jacket."

 

*

 

Gibbs looked at his watch. "It's 2100. Time to go home." The two men ambled along the sidewalk, shoulder to shoulder, wearing their new sweaters under their overcoats as they headed back to the car. Their suit jackets were in the shopping bag in Tony's hand. Tony tried to catch Gibbs' fingers in his own every now and then, but Gibbs kept snatching his hand away.

 

Tony gave up the game as soon as they approached their car. Gibbs unlocked it but Tony didn't get in. He pointed down the street where a crowd had formed. "Listen…music. Hey Jethro, they're singing carols. Can we…?"

 

***end chapter 9***


	10. Chapter 10

A choral group of about fifty men, all wearing festive red sweaters, was singing 'Angels, We Have Heard on High' on a stage in the center of the plaza. There was quite a crowd gathered, everyone singing along, bundled up against the cold in brightly colored winter clothing.

 

Tony shouldered his way through the throng of people, leaving Gibbs no choice but to tag along. Tony finally stopped near the center of the crowd, with Gibbs standing slightly behind him at eight o'clock. As the men's chorus sang the last notes of the carol, the crowd applauded and Tony glanced back at Gibbs, who was pressed up against his shoulder. Tony smiled, his eyes shining with enjoyment. He shifted so Gibbs could stand right next to him. The night air was cold enough for them to see their breath and Gibbs noted that Tony wasn't wearing a hat, but at least their new sweaters were keeping their bodies nice and warm.

 

"'Away in a Manger' is next," Tony said, pointing to the open page in a program booklet he had picked up along the way. He held it up, far enough away so that Gibbs could read the lyrics. The next carol began and Tony raised his voice in song along with the men's chorus and the audience.

 

Gibbs doubted that he could have read the fine print running under the bars of musical notes, even with his glasses on. He wasn't complaining because the crowded plaza offered a good excuse to stand close to his partner in public. "They're good," he said in Tony's ear, indicating the men's chorus. "Who are they?" There was a banner hanging behind the singers, but from where he stood it was partially obscured.

 

Tony turned to look at Gibbs and his voice faltered in mid-song. Closing the booklet, he held it up so Gibbs could read the name on the cover. It took Gibbs a few seconds of squinting and focusing before he was able to read, 'Holiday Songs performed by the DC Gay Men's Chorus.' He felt color rush to his cheeks and heard Tony's low rumble of laughter.

 

Tony took hold of his sleeve and said, so only Gibbs could hear, "You owe me a gift, Jethro."

 

He raised his eyebrows in query. He'd lost track of whose turn it was to give, but he wasn't keeping score anyway.

 

"I want to hear you sing." Tony flipped through the program. "The next carol is 'Oh Come All ye Faithful.' Sing it with me." He met Jethro's eyes with a plea.

 

Jethro, knowing he owed Tony a hell of a lot more than one song, especially after the way he'd treated him the previous night, nodded and rubbed shoulders with the younger man. Tony raised his face towards the stage once again and joined in the last stanzas of 'Away in a Manger.'

 

After a short pause the chorus led the audience in singing 'Oh Come All ye Faithful.' Jethro, true to his word, sang along, but all he was aware of was the man standing beside him. Tony's eyes were sparkling as he sang his heart out. His cheeks, ears, and the tip of his nose were pink from the frosty air. It was all Gibbs could do to stop himself from kissing Tony right then and there, and everyone be damned.

 

Without any forethought Jethro reached down between them, located Tony's hand, and took possession of it. Typical of Tony, not wearing any gloves. Okay, so he wasn't wearing any gloves either, but Gibbs didn't seem to feel the cold the same way Tony did. Gibbs laced their fingers together to share some of his warmth.

 

Even thought Tony didn't extricate himself from Jethro's grasp, he stiffened at the contact, and Jethro wondered if he'd made a mistake. Had he misunderstood Tony's desire to hold hands earlier? Had it all been a tease, touching him in the sweater shop, trying to grab his hand when they'd been strolling around earlier? Gibbs couldn’t believe that he'd so misjudged his partner. He looked at Tony's profile as he continued singing, trying to read what was going on in his mind without any success.

 

Jethro squeezed Tony's hand, seeking assurance. Tony bit his bottom lip, hesitated and then turned to meet his gaze. What Jethro saw there, in Tony's green eyes, was love of such depth he was taken aback. Tony ducked his head and used his sleeve to wipe his eyes, then turned back to face the chorus, retaining his hold on Jethro's hand as if it was a lifeline.

 

All but oblivious to the crowd, they sang the remainder of the carol, hands linked together, sharing their love with each other in a quiet way.

 

*

 

That evening they sat in front of their Christmas tree with a glass of wine, the living room lights turned low. Jethro reclined on the comfortable couch, feet up, cushions propped behind his head. Tony's long body lay snugly between his legs, the crown of his head resting on Jethro's chest.

 

"That's going to be one of my best memories, hearing you sing," Tony said in a hushed voice. He angled his head to look back at Jethro. "I don't care if I never get another gift."

 

Jethro kissed Tony's temple, which was all he could reach from his current position, and wrapped his arms around him. Tony was heavy but his weight was comforting, as was the feel of his chest rising and falling under his hands. "Never? Hmm. That's too bad because I bought you a present before Abby decided we should all give free gifts this year."

 

Tony twisted so he could see Jethro's face. "You bought me something? What is it?"

 

Letting out a huff of breath, Jethro admonished, "Thought you didn't want anything more than your memories."

 

"Our memories," Tony corrected. "I'll always treasure them, and all of the things we've done this Christmas, but I'd still like whatever gift you bought for me." He settled back into place, his hips wiggling against Jethro's crotch. "I got something for you, too. Bought it weeks ago. It's really an anniversary present but can we open them on Christmas morning?"

 

"We'll put them under the tree then." It was all very well spooning on the couch but Jethro wanted more. "Turn over," he ordered the man sprawling on top of him. "I want to kiss you and I can't from this angle." Tony did as he was told and their mouths met, soft and wet, pliable and lazy. Tony's response changed from a gentle kiss to a deeper, more involved play of his tongue. He moaned his fast growing need.

 

Jethro's his hand slid under Tony's sweater to caress his back, massaging his muscles, fingers splaying and pulling him closer.

 

Tony slipped his hand under Jethro's shirt and ran his palm across his belly and up to his chest, loving the crisp feel of his body hair.

 

Jethro nibbled and sucked Tony's mouth, then kissed him hard, with fervor and want until they broke apart gasping. "Time for bed." Tony didn't need any more encouragement.

 

*

 

Tony stripped off his clothes and tossed them aside so fast that Jethro laughed. By the time Jethro had toed off his shoes and peeled off his socks Tony was naked and waiting on their bed, his cock standing at attention. He was all long limbs, tousled hair and big eyes, dark with desire. Jethro kicked his own clothing out of the way, crawled across the bed and braced himself over Tony's hips. "Damn, you're beautiful."

 

Tony shook his head a little in denial.

 

Jethro cupped Tony's jaw with one hand and licked his lover's lips before kissing him.

 

"Don't have a gift for you," Tony mumbled into Jethro's mouth.

 

Jethro nuzzled the underside of Tony's jaw. "Isn't this my present?" Lazily he stroked Tony's cock and gently rolled his balls in his palm. "Don't want anything else but you."

 

"I could dress up as a beat cop and you can play with my nightstick," Tony suggested breathily, his head going back in response to the stimulation. "Oh, oh…that's good."

 

"Don't need to dress up." Jethro twisted Tony's fat shaft and flicked at its tip with his thumb.

 

Tony shuddered with pleasure and panted, "You could play big bad gunny. Interrogate me. Uniforms turn me on." He ran his hands over his own chest and rubbed his nipples in time to Jethro's deft strokes to his impossibly hard cock.

 

Jethro moved Tony's hands away from his chest and held onto his wrists. In a dangerous low voice he asked, "You telling me you need a uniform to turn you on, boy?"

 

Tony smiled, his eyelids halfway closed. He licked his lips suggestively. "No. Sometimes when we're at work and I smell you it's enough to make hard. I've almost come a couple of times. I know, how about me being a fugitive and you capture me and drag me to jail? I'll slick my hair back, and wear a plaid shirt, and you can handcuff me."

 

"How about you shut up and I just fuck you?" Gibbs didn't need to wait for a reply. From the excited look on Tony's face he already had his answer.

 

***

 

1700 hours, Christmas Eve. Reports were filed, no new cases had landed in their laps, and Vance had already left. All was well at NCIS.

 

"Hey, it's snowing again." McGee walked over to the huge window that overlooked the gunmetal-gray Anacostia. The park across the river wasn't even visible through the blizzard of snow though he could just make out the lights along the riverbank. He smiled in wonder. "Don't you just love the snow?"

 

"I love looking at it," Tony said as he joined Tim at the window. Together they watched the large flakes coming down, swirling and settling on the ground. The streets were covered in snow, even though snowplows had been by several times already that day. "Hope it doesn't mess up everyone's travel plans." McGee didn't have far to go, but at last report Ziva was heading off to Vermont to meet her Mr. Sunset. Palmer was spending a few days with his family, Abby was flying to New Orleans the next day, and Tony and Gibbs were winging it to warmer climes on the afternoon of Christmas Day. Ducky was staying in DC and had hinted he was going to enjoy the company of a lady friend.

 

Abby rushed into the bullpen, demanding, "Am I late? I had to change! Gibbs said to wear warm clothes and to be here at five, so here I am. He wouldn't say what the plans were. What're we doing? What's going on?"

 

Ziva appeared beside her, dressed in SOPAT snow camouflage parka and trousers tucked into white moon boots. She admired Abby's all-black outfit: retro ski pants, a chain-festooned leather jacket over a heavy sweater, with heavy-tread boots that looked suitable for climbing Everest. Abby's mittens were attached to her sleeves with the kind of clips kids had on their snowsuits. Ziva eyed Abby's black and white buffalo plaid hat with its earflaps hanging over her cheeks. "Are you going to be a lumberjohn and cut down trees, Abby?"

 

"Lumberjack," corrected Abby and Tony in unison. Abby giggled and looked Tony up and down. "Nice sweater, Tony." She nudged him with her elbow. "Noticed Gibbs was wearing a new one, too. When are we going to find out what you boys have planned?" She jumped up and down a couple of times, eliciting a broad smile from Tony.

 

"We'll wait for Gibbs to explain," was all he would say. "Hey, here's Ducky and Palmer!"

 

Ducky joined them, regaling Palmer with a story about his childhood Christmas in the old country. Both men were wearing down coats and mufflers, and had hats and gloves ready to put on.

 

Ziva took a moment to take Tony aside. "As Abby says, you look good, Tony."

 

"Thanks, Ziva. This sweater's beautiful, isn't it?" He grinned and ran his hands across his chest with suggestive strokes.

 

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, but I was not talking about your sweater. You look…" Ziva took a moment to appraise him. "You look…at peace. That is not quite the word I would like to use. Perhaps…content?"

 

"Why, thank you, Ziva. I feel content. Happy, even." He looked down at her and smiled, knowing it was the truth, and that he didn't care who knew that it was Gibbs who had made him so.

 

"Perhaps you are happy because you are…" She searched for the right word. "Anonymous? Magnanimous? No, that is not right. What is it when you are with only one person?"

 

"Uh, you mean monogamous?" He couldn’t help but grin at the thought of being monogamous. Imagine him, Tony DiNozzo being committed to one person - one man - for an entire year. Who would have believed it? But then he'd been faithful to Gibbs for far longer than that, since the day the NCIS agent had recruited him, so maybe it wasn't so strange after all. "You know, Ziva, it's really a nice state to be in. You might try it."

 

Ziva studied Tony curiously. "You know about this state being nice, Tony? You have not spoken of sleeping with many women lately. Perhaps you have found someone special and have gone on more than your usual limit of four dates?"

 

He looked into her dark eyes, trying to determine if she even knew about Gibbs and the depth of their relationship, but then McGee was at his side asking, "What's the boss up to, Tony?"

 

"How would I know, McEager?"

 

"Well because you're his…" McGee hesitated and glanced from Tony to Ziva, unsure.

 

Tony sent a look of warning to Tim. "His what, Probie?"

 

"Uh, you're the senior field agent, Tony," Tim said. With only the slightest of hesitation he added, "It's your job to know what the boss is doing."

 

So McGee knew, and from the puzzled look Ziva was darting his way, Tony was now certain that she wasn't aware of his relationship with Gibbs. Odd, he'd always assumed she'd known but had kept it to herself. It wasn't a secret, per se, but he and Gibbs never advertised their relationship or their co-habitation. McGee's chin was up, slightly defensive, but accepting. Tony gave McGee a smile of appreciation and knew that they understood each other.

 

Tony turned his attention back to the dark-haired woman standing by his side. "Ziva, there's a man over there who looks like he'd be happy to be all yours. Like you once told me, be a man and do the right thing." Damon Werth had just exited the elevator and was slowly approaching, as if he wasn't quite sure of his welcome.

 

Ziva seemed indecisive, but after a second she nodded and went to greet Damon with a hug. She then drew him into her circle of friends.

 

It was only a couple of minutes later that Gibbs came down the staircase. "Okay folks," he said as he came up behind Damon and clamped a hand on the big young man's shoulder. "Everyone ready? Werth?"

 

Damon almost stood at attention and said, "Yessir, got what you asked for in my vehicle."

 

Gibbs asked, "Palmer?" Jimmy nodded so Gibbs motioned with a sweep of his hand for everyone to follow. "Let's go then. Follow me."

 

Abby was chattering away, excited, asking questions about where they were going and not getting any answers. Ducky was in the middle of another story, this one about the studies of medicinal uses of frankincense, and Palmer was talking over him, asking everyone about their holiday traditions. Tony smiled at the way Ziva stood close to Damon, at the disparity in their height, and the way he followed her with his eyes. Yep, the muscular young man was lovesick. Tony felt sorry for him, in a way, knowing exactly how it felt to yearn for someone so much you found yourself unable to act normally.

 

Wasting no time, Gibbs managed to get everyone down to the parking garage and into Damon's Humvee. "DiNozzo, you're with me." He and Tony took his truck, leading the way to their mystery destination.

 

***end chapter 10***


	11. Chapter 11

Gibbs pulled up in a deserted, unplowed parking area off a side road, Damon's Humvee close behind. All Tony knew was they were on the far side of Rock Creek Park and that it looked very dark and uninviting.

 

After Tony had suggested an outing for the whole team, a couple of nights ago, Gibbs had taken the bull by the horns and had run with the idea. Tony had trusted Gibbs to follow through and, indeed, it appeared that the whole operation had been planned with military precision.

 

They all piled out of the two vehicles and looked around at their surroundings. It was dark and isolated, and from the looks on the faces of the team members, they were ready to hop into the Humvee and head back to civilization. Tony pulled his collar up and shoved his hands in his pockets, knowing that if anyone could pull this off, it was Gibbs.

 

Palmer jumped up and down, his arms clasped around his chest, and McGee pulled his knit cap firmly over his ears and looked grumpy.

 

"I say, Jethro, it's a bit nippy out here," Ducky said, censure coloring his voice. He frowned at Tony's bare head. "Young man, go and fetch your hat." Tony rolled his eyes and went to grab his knit hat off the front seat of the truck, but didn't put it on.

 

Gibbs stood in the beams of his truck's headlights and gathered everyone around him. The snow, coming down at a slower rate, dusted their heads and shoulders with fluffy white snowflakes. Gibbs removed one of his gloves, stuck a couple of fingers in his mouth and emitted an ear-piercing whistle. Suddenly the area was flooded with illumination from a dozen stadium lights. Below them a long, snow-covered hill as steep as a ski run, with a large flat field at its base, was revealed. Way off on the other side a man appeared from a small park ranger's hut. He waved and Gibbs waved back.

 

Tony grinned. "Nice going, Gibbs. What is this place?"

 

Gibbs said, "There's a playing field at the bottom of the hill under all that snow. Tonight it's our sled run."

 

"How'd you get him to turn on the lights, Boss?" asked McGee with interest.

 

"The rangers damned well know it's NCIS who fishes any bodies out when the ponds thaw," Gibbs said with a crooked smile. He ordered in his best drill sergeant voice, "Werth, get everyone geared up."

 

Damon opened the back of his vehicle and started pulling out a variety of sleds and toboggans, one large enough to carry two people. Abby squealed in delight and smiles appeared on everyone's faces. "Hey, I had a flying saucer like this as a kid," exclaimed McGee, a broad grin lighting up his face as he pulled out a battered circular aluminum sled. "Where'd you get these?"

 

Damon explained, "Tony borrowed a couple from his neighbor's kid and I bought a couple of the plastic sleds. The others came from some buddies."

 

"Well," Ziva said, "It was very thoughtful of Gibbs and Tony to come up with this idea. And very nice of you to help out, Damon." He ducked his head and blushed at the compliment.

 

Abby took hold of Tony's arm and whispered in his ear, "Wedding bells by June. Betcha."

 

Gibbs called out loudly, "Palmer! Hot drinks!"

 

Jimmy emerged from the back of Damon's vehicle with a large coffee urn. He placed it on the lowered tailgate of Gibbs' truck. He went back to the Hummer and returned with another urn and Abby helped out by fetching a box containing enough mugs for everybody. Palmer announced, "There's hot cider here. And this urn contains hot coffee for, of course, Special Agent Gibbs." He quickly poured the beverages and handed them out. "Dr. Mallard, hot mulled cider?"

 

"Thank you, Jimmy. Cider inside 'er inside?"

 

"Oh yes, " Jimmy said with a laugh. "'There was an enchanting young bride, who ate many green apples and died. The apples fermented, inside the lamented, and made cider inside her inside.' She probably died a horrible death with a gastric ulcer, her stomach lining literally fermenting in an bubbly, oozing..."

 

Abby pulled a face and cried, "Jimmeee!"

 

"Oh, was that an inappropriate comment?"

 

"C'mon, everyone," Tony said. "Let's go have some fun. Put that coffee down, Jethro." He barely gave his boss enough time to put his cup aside before dragging him over to pick out a sled. Tony chose the two-man wooden toboggan. "It even has padded seats," Tony pointed out. "Your leg going to be okay, Boss?"

 

Jethro balked but he saw the hopeful look in Tony's eye and gave in. "Just put your damned hat on, Tony, or you'll catch a cold," he said gruffly. Tony did as he was told. By the time they had arranged themselves, Gibbs in the front and firmly in control, Tony behind with his long legs wrapped around Gibbs, with his feet braced out of harm's way, Ziva had taken off and so had Abby, racing down the hill at a fast rate on their borrowed sleds. Abby screamed all the way down and almost crashed into a laughing Ziva near the bottom of the run.

 

Ducky and Palmer followed gamely on individual sleds but McGee tried out the flying saucer. He took off down the hill fast, but halfway down, the circular sled rotated and he ended up sliding the rest of the way backwards until he rolled and tumbled into the powdery snow with a shout. Damon took a running start and jumped face first on a long glider. He rapidly overtook the others and finally came to a halt thirty feet beyond everyone else. He fell off his sled and came up laughing, covered in snow.

 

Tony, backseat driving, yelled instructions to Gibbs all the way down the hill, to which the ex-Marine turned a deaf ear. Their combined weight took them down the run at breakneck speed, but when Tony leaned too far to one side they ran off-course and plowed into a snowbank. Tony struggled to his feet, laughing. "Wow, wipeout!" He dusted snow off his hat and chest and checked out Gibbs, still sprawled in the snow.

 

"Ya think, DiNozzo? You have to keep your weight over the center, like ballast," Gibbs groused from where he lay in deep snow. He sat up and glared at Tony.

 

"Just give me your hand, Gibbs." He held out his hand towards Gibbs and waggled his gloved fingers.

 

"How about next time you leave the driving to me?" Even though some freezing snow had gone down his neck Gibbs couldn’t help grinning, what with Tony standing over him, dusted in snow and looking so damned good. He stuck his right hand out for Tony to grab.

 

"The way you drive it's amazing we didn't hit any oncoming traffic," Tony joked as he leaned back and hauled Gibbs off his ass.

 

Gibbs brushed the snow off his rear end and narrowed his eyes at Tony. "You got a problem with my driving, DiNozzo?"

 

"Man, do you know that when you're all angry and covered in snow, you are _hot_ , Gibbs?" Everyone was trudging back up the hill to take another run, and since nobody was looking their way Tony grabbed Gibbs, wrapped his arms around him and delivered a hot kiss to his mouth. It was only intended to be a short kiss, but somehow it became much more. Cold noses bumped each other, heads slanted, tongues played and steamy breath warmed their cheeks.

 

Jethro's warm mouth covered Tony's, and then his lover - his partner, his other half, his soul mate - made a small sound of acceptance and melted into him.

 

They both lost all sense of time but eventually broke their kiss and looked into each other's eyes. There was no mistaking their love for each other, their deep connection. Tony couldn’t stop smiling and Gibbs threw his head back with laughter. A clapping sound intruded and they looked up, startled, suddenly aware that they had an audience.

 

Halfway up the slope, knee-deep in powdery snow, stood the NCIS team, their sleds in hand. Ducky grinned and clapped together his leather-clad hands in applause. Palmer's smile was just about wide enough to split his face. McGee was red-faced, only partially from the cold. Abby wrapped her arms around Tim and managed to jump up and down at the same time, almost knocking them both over. "Go Gibbs! Go Tony," she cheered.

 

Damon, with one arm slung around Ziva's shoulders, looked a little perplexed. And the Israeli woman, although obviously surprised at witnessing the spectacle of Tony and Gibbs in an all-out passionate clinch, raised one hand, thumb in the air as a sign of approval, and called out, "Sealed with a kiss, no?"

 

*

 

_Christmas Eve_

 

"That was a success, Jethro," said Tony as he hung their outdoor clothing to dry in the mudroom.

 

"Are you still cold?" Gibbs poured himself a cup of coffee.

 

"I'm warmer now. I wouldn't have been so cold in the first place if Ducky hadn't started that snowball fight. I think I still have some snow down my back."

 

Gibbs laughed and rubbed Tony's shoulders when the younger man sidled up and leaned against him. "The snow will all be gone by the time we get back next week. Want something to eat?"

 

"Sure. We need to eat up that lasagna in the fridge. It won't keep til we return. I'll heat it up."

 

All through their dinner Tony kept smiling and once when he looked up he caught Jethro chuckling. Tony said, "Thanks for setting it up, with the lights and everything." Gibbs shrugged but Tony could tell he was as pleased as he was at the outcome. When they had finished their meal, and Jethro was washing the dishes, Tony said apologetically, "I didn't mean to out us like that by kissing you. I didn't think anyone would see us."

 

Jethro shrugged Tony's worries off. "Won't change anything. If anybody has figured out we're together in the past year, they haven't said anything. Not to my face, anyway."

 

"I don't think we have to worry about any of the team having loose lips," Tony reasoned. "And Damon won't talk. He's too loyal to you." Tony knew he'd have to endure a lot of ribbing from Ziva, when they were all back at work in the new year, but he would deal with it as it happened. "Uh, there is one thing I should let you know…"

 

Jethro steeled himself. The way Tony was squirming it was obvious he was afraid to reveal something. Unsure of he should be patient or annoyed, Jethro settled on a long-suffering sigh. "Spit it out."

 

"Well, don't get man, but I signed us up for a January audition with the Gay Men's Chorus." Tony backed up a pace at Jethro's horrified expression. Tony then cajoled, "I really loved hearing you sing, Jethro, and I know you enjoyed singing, too." Jethro took a step menacing forward so Tony quickly suggested, "Or I guess I could un-sign us?"

 

*

 

Jethro tidied the kitchen while Tony turned off the tree's lights and locked up. They were already halfway up the stairs when Tony said, "Wait, it's Christmas Eve! I have to put your gift under the tree." He ran the rest of the way upstairs and soon hurried back down, holding a small wrapped package the size of his hand. He placed it right next to a gift-wrapped package that had miraculously appeared under the tree. It was about the same size as his gift for Jethro but, whereas Tony had wrapped his in bright red paper and an oversized bow, Gibbs had used what appeared to be the funnies page out of the newspaper as gift wrap, and he'd tied it up with heavy white string.

 

Gibbs said, "Had it hidden away in the kitchen."

 

"Sneaky."

 

"I figured you're the kind of kid to sneak a peak, Tony." He caught the bashful look on his partner's face and let out a humph. "We'll open them in the morning, okay? We have to leave for the airport by noon."

 

"Ah, cocktails at sunset, on the beach," Tony said with a faraway gleam in his eyes. "A wonderful way to begin our second year together."

 

"And many more to come. Happy anniversary, Tony," Jethro said tenderly. He shifted his weight and muttered, "Oh hell, I'm gonna regret this but when's this audition thing you want us to go to?"

 

Tony fell into Jethro's embrace and whispered, "Happy anniversary to you, too, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

 

"Damned right I am." They shared a kiss and went up to their bedroom to make love.

 

***end chapter 11***

 


	12. Chapter 12

The first time they had sex together, a year ago Christmas Eve, had been exactly that: sex. It was an act borne of pent-up frustration, loneliness, a certain amount of booze and, Jethro eventually admitted to himself, a sizeable chunk of long-denied lust.

 

Okay, it had something to do with love, too.

 

Jethro'd had feelings for Tony for quite some time, although he swore he had never given any hint of those feelings, much less acted upon them. And he never would have made a move on Tony under normal circumstances. Not that there was much about their job that the average Joe would consider normal. Dealing daily with the injuries and death of both anonymous victims and their own people, extreme emotional highs and lows, stress, and failures tempered by the successes that kept them plugging along year after year, was their way of life.

 

But last year at this time, a succession of hard cases and the usual holiday blues, coupled with Tony turning up at Gibbs' door in an unusually fragile emotional state, had all conspired to set the ball in motion. Tony had stood there in the middle of the basement, leaning against the ribs of the latest boat, downing his second jar of bourbon and laughing in that brittle way he had when things were about to crash down about his ears.

 

Tony had shaken his head and said, "Shit, we are a couple of the sorriest men I've ever known, alone in your basement drinking booze that tastes of rusty nails, with no family in sight." He took in a ragged breath and muttered under his breath in a shaky voice, "Oh God, I'm a mess. Have to go." And then his face crumpled and somehow he was in Jethro's arms and his face was buried in his neck.

 

Tony's hands were under his boss's shirt then undoing his sensible Sears belt with hands made clumsy by a desperate kind of want, and without ever sharing a kiss they ended up half-naked, jerking each other off and coming all over their hands and clothes, breathing hard with Jethro holding Tony upright because he had seemed so week-kneed and drained that Jethro was afraid he was going to pass out on the basement floor. Then there was a long stretch of embarrassed silence but Tony, who refused to meet Jethro's eyes, clung to him and didn't make any move to leave.

 

So Jethro offered Tony a somewhat clean rag and looked the other way to give the younger man time to clean himself off and get his act together. He'd planned to show Tony the door and to pretend to forget what had happened but after a look at Tony's face, all guilt-ridden and scared of something - surely he wasn't scared of Gibbs - he didn't do anything so stupid as to push him out. Because Jethro was still consumed with need, and pretty much acting out of self-interest at that point, he pulled Tony upstairs with him. He had then stripped a too-compliant Tony of his clothes and washed him down properly, and took him to bed where they held each other in silence. It was only when dawn was breaking did they finally get a little sleep.

 

The next morning was awkward and sort of weird being that it was Christmas morning and there was no evidence of it being a holiday in Gibbs' home, except for a few cards on the mantle and a Christmas cake from Jackson sitting half-eaten in a tin on the kitchen counter. After handing Tony a cup of coffee and a bagel, Jethro decided to send Tony home, but somehow they ended up eating omelets and hash browns and drinking huge cups of coffee sitting across from each other at the kitchen table. Tony still wouldn’t meet his eyes for more than a couple of seconds but he ate everything that was put in front of him.

 

By the time Tony was pulling on his boots by the front door, and offering Jethro a too-polite thank-you (though it wasn't clear if it was for the sex or for the breakfast), Jethro knew for certain he just couldn't let him go. That was when they finally kissed, a first for both of them it turned out. It wasn't great as far as technique went, tentative and exploratory, but their second kiss was far better and, as they say, the rest was history.

 

***

 

It was their second Christmas morning together and Tony, like a kid, was eager to get downstairs so they could open their gifts. He was torn between being excited about seeing Jethro's reaction when he opened up his present, and worried that he'd think it was too much. One thing for sure, Jethro wasn't the kind of guy to go overboard with gift giving, even if he was generous to Tony in other ways.

 

By the time Gibbs was out of the shower, Tony was already dressed and in the guest bedroom, finishing up packing for the trip. When Tony had moved in seven months ago, the two men had quickly come to the conclusion that there wasn't enough room in the master bedroom closet to accommodate Jethro's as well as Tony's clothes. So now Tony used the spare room closet for his out-of-season and lesser-used clothing.

 

Jethro was content to stand in the open doorway with a cup of coffee in hand, and admire Tony's rear end, while the younger man bent over to zip up his bag. Tony picked up his suitcase and turned. Seeing Jethro standing there with a smirk on his face, he smiled in response. Bumping their hips together, Tony slid his free hand behind Jethro's neck and pulled him closer for a sweet good morning kiss. "Merry Christmas," he murmured against Jethro's lips.

 

"Mmm, and Merry Christmas to you, too," Jethro responded, unable to recall when he'd last felt so content and relaxed. "C'mon, we have a big day ahead of us."

 

Tony raised his eyebrows, hopeful. "Gifts or breakfast?"

 

Knowing that breakfast would be rushed and only half eaten if opening the gifts was postponed, Jethro agreed, "Gifts."

 

"Packed?"

 

"Almost. I'll finish later."

 

Suitcase in hand, Tony bounded downstairs ahead of Jethro, who followed at a more sedate pace shaking his head.

 

Tony handed Gibbs his wrapped gift almost reverently, and then hesitantly retrieved his own from under the Christmas tree. Tony looked at the wrapping paper with interest. "This is perfect. I love the funnies."

 

"You gonna open it or just read the comics, Tony?"

 

"Are you going to open yours first?" Suddenly Tony seemed nervous. "If you don’t like it we can change it. Or I can get you something else…or…"

 

Shit, thought Gibbs, he bought me something expensive. He loved that Tony thought enough of him to put so much trouble and thought into everything he gave him, but Jethro had always been embarrassed to be on the receiving end of gifts, especially if they cost more than twenty bucks. Maybe it came from growing up watching every penny. "Maybe," Jethro suggested, "we should open them at the same time."

 

Tony scrunched up his face. "No, I want to watch you."

 

Jethro took hold of Tony's free hand and drew him close. "Tony, no matter what you got me, you know I'll love it." Tony started to speak but Jethro stopped him with a look of warning. "Now I know I'm an old grouch…"

 

"No, Jethro…"

 

"C'mon, let's not lie about it. We both know that's the way I am, especially at work. But when we get home, when we're here together and it's you and me, only us…it's different, And this past year, being with you? It hasn’t been anything like I expected. I guess I thought it'd be an extension of our work life, but it's been so much better. Since you've been in my life, been my partner, I've never been happier. I just want you to know that."

 

Tony ducked his head and shifted his weight. "Damn it, you're going to make me cry, you old grouch."

 

Jethro pulled Tony into his arms and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Tony, and if you don't open your gift soon we'll have to leave it under the tree until we come back. We need to have breakfast and get a move on. I have a couple of things I need to do before we leave."

 

"I love you, Jethro."

 

"I know. You show me every day. Here, I'll go first." Jethro released Tony and unwrapped his gift. The shiny red paper fell away to reveal a black jeweler's box. Hesitantly he opened the lid and revealed a beautiful black watch with a pale gold inset, with numbers large enough that even he could read them. "Tony…" It was too much. He didn't know what to say and like an idiot he just stood there staring at it for a little too long.

 

Tony's hand reached out and tried to take the gift back. "You don't like it. I knew it was too much," he said, his voice tight as he echoed Jethro's thoughts.

 

Tony was shaking his head in self-condemnation but Jethro held onto his gift and placed his large hand over Tony's. "Hey, I love it. I do."

 

"No, I can tell I overdid it. I don't want you to feel compelled, Jethro…"

 

"I love it. I want to keep it, Tony."

 

"No you don't."

 

"Hey, you ever know me to do something I don't want to do, Tony?"

 

"Yeah."

 

In disbelief, Jethro asked, "When?"

 

Tony met his eyes and a corner of his mouth twitched. "When I got you to try out that vibrating plug--."

 

Red-faced, Jethro quickly said, "Yeah, well, there were extenuating circumstances." He sighed. "Tell me about my new watch, Tony. Like if it cost more than this house."

 

Tony shrugged and said cautiously, "I took out insurance on it but don't leave it lying around any hotel room." He saw that Jethro had taken the watch out of its box and was already putting it on, so Tony helped him with the catch, even though the older man didn't really need any help. He explained, "It's a Louis Vuitton yachtsman's watch with a steel case covered in vulcanized rubber. That makes it almost indestructible. See this, it shows military time, and it comes with another watchband…"

 

Tony continued talking but Jethro wasn't listening any more. He had a tight feeling in his chest that, if he hadn't been in love, he might mistake for symptoms of a weak heart. Eventually Tony stopped extolling the virtues of the watch, whose best feature was simply that Jethro could read it without putting on his glasses. "Your turn," Jethro said with a fond smile.

 

Tony had some trouble undoing the knots that Gibbs had tied around the newspaper-wrapped gift. In the end he had to pull out his knife to slice through the string that was holding his present hostage. "Phew, remind me not to get into rope bondage with you, Jethro," Tony said, half-seriously. Then the gift wrap was discarded and a box similar to the one that had encased Jethro's watch was revealed. Despite his earlier haste, Tony took his time opening it. When he did, his eyes widened and he whispered in awe, "Magnum." His voice was louder when he exclaimed, "You found a Magnum watch, a Rolex GMT Master! Jethro…I don't know what to say."

 

Jethro bit back his instinctive 'that's a first' and instead simply offered a heartfelt, "Happy Anniversary and Merry Christmas, baby."

 

Tony hugged him so hard Jethro just about had the breath squeezed out of him. He was kissed and released and Tony started to tell him about the line of watches by Rolex. "Rolex made these special watches for PanAm the 50s that showed two time zones simultaneously, and they colored it red and blue and that's why they call it the Pepsi bezel and Tom Selleck wore his in Magnum and it's…it's just what I wanted. I love it!" He hugged Jethro again and was still talking about the watch and Magnum as he was guided into the kitchen for breakfast.

 

Tony knew that the watch was from the 50s and that Jethro had spent a lot, possibly a couple of grand on it. He'd spent too much on his gift for his partner, too, but it was a special occasion and something he really wanted to do. To Tony, being part of a solid, loving, long-term - forever - relationship was worth more than any gift, more than any amount of money. It was priceless and he valued it, and Jethro as well, more than anything, even his own life. Although Tony was sometimes consumed with self-doubt (though less now than ever before in his life,) he knew without any reservation that what he and Jethro had was a rich, rewarding, and complete relationship that defied all reason. But one thing for sure, he wasn't about to question it.

 

***

 

"Jethro, I…uh…I have to make a call. Do I have time?"

 

Jethro didn't ask who it was that Tony felt compelled to call on Christmas morning. "Sure, we're leaving in twenty minutes. Roads are clear and the flight's on time." Jethro went upstairs to finish packing and left Tony to make his call.

 

***

 

Gibbs peered into the living room. All things considered, he wasn't really very surprised to see Tony slumped in the easy chair by the phone. He went over and sat in front of him on the coffee table and took both of his hands in his own. "Hey." Tony didn't meet his eyes. "Hey," Gibbs said again, softly. "Was he there?"

 

Tony tilted his head to one side and shrugged. "Yeah."

 

This was like pulling nails. Gibbs tried not to let his anger show. "You talk to him?"

 

Tony picked at the seam of his jeans. "Yeah."

 

Gibbs didn't ask anything else and eventually Tony looked up and met his eyes. Cursing inwardly at the man who seemed to have a knack for putting a world of hurt in Tony's eyes, Gibbs stood and pulled Tony up, into his arms. Tony buried his face in Jethro's neck and let out a ragged sigh. Jethro supported Tony as best he could, in the only way he knew how, showing his love with his tender embrace. They stood like that for several minutes and then Gibbs gently urged Tony to sit back down.

 

He picked up the phone, Tony immediately and loudly protesting, but Gibbs hushed him. "I'm not calling him, Tony." He dialed a number and then said, "Merry Christmas. Yeah, we're leaving shortly but before we go we wanted to wish you a good holiday. Uhuh. Yeah. I know, Dad. Here he is. Thanks, Dad." Jethro handed the phone to Tony. "He wants to say something to you."

 

For a second Tony almost refused to speak to Jackson Gibbs, not feeling like talking to anyone, but he relented. Within thirty seconds Tony was smiling and a minute later he was laughing. When they'd finished the call and disconnected, Tony said, "He'd like us to visit in a couple of months. Think we can do that?"

 

"I think we can wrangle a long weekend." He kissed the side of Tony's head and then slapped him on the rear. "C'mon, cowboy. Time to go." Gibbs looked around. "Where's the other bag?"

 

"What bag?"

 

"The one with our beach stuff in it."

 

"Uh, you left it on the bed."

 

Gibbs sighed and ran upstairs, feeling a vague ache in his still-bruised thigh. He hoped a week of swimming and lying around would cure it but he had a strong feeling he was going to get a workout every night from his partner.

 

Tony stood in the front hall, two packed bags at his feet, fielding a last-minute call from Abby on his cell. "Hey Abbs. You have a great Christmas, too, and we'll see you in the New Year."

 

From upstairs came a bellow. "DiNozzo!"

 

Tony cringed at the ferocity of the way his lover yelled his name. He quickly ended his conversation with Abby, saying, "Uh oh, I have to go!"

 

"DiNozzo! DINOZZO! Where are my swim trunks and why the hell is this bikini in my bag?"

 

*** the end ***

 


End file.
